


i'll crawl home to her.

by blxxm



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, But also, F/F, Foster Kid AU, because im trash and these two deserve to be happy okay, bury me with this au, feed me angst for breakfast, i thought about lena and kara being orphans together and this happened, its a wild ride and i cant stop screaming, like honestly they love each other so much and shit just gets in the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blxxm/pseuds/blxxm
Summary: She feels her eyes heat up, closes them, tries to rinse her parents’ faces from her memory, tries to burn them in at the same time. She wants to hold onto them, wants to move on like they asked. She wants to remember Krypton, be Krypton - her parents are martyrs and she has to be the prophet.-Or, the foster kid au nobody asked for because it's angsty as hell.





	1. But I swear I thought I dreamed her

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry i couldn't help myself, this au really got away from me (at least its multi-chap??)

The first time Kara sees Earth, it’s faster than the speed of light. She sees clouds as she plummets through them, the combustion of her pod smoking around her. She sees the buildings and their lights, sees mountains and oceans and eventually trees, orange with what she was taught means a seasonal change, of something new.

She hits the ground before she sees it, hard and fast and it throws her sideways inside the pod, makes her head ache, and suddenly she hears everything too.

Hears too much too quick, hears it all. Its overwhelming, it's _too loud_.

She passes out, swallowed by the night of this new world.

 

//

 

When she wakes up, things are a bit lighter. The sun of this world is yellow, and Kara feels it warm her skin through the glass, feels it give her the strength to lift her head, to really _look_ at Earth.

There’s people, people everywhere, around her pod and the dirt it's wedged into. Yellow tape surrounds her, and she wants to get away so badly that she feels herself speed up faster than ever, runs away so quick that her feet burn against the solid and harsh ground.

She’s far away now, everything is still loud, still bright, still too much. Further off, she can make out a building, tall and luxuriously old, with stone pillars and a bell that tolls. It reminds her of the temples for Rao, of _home_.

She runs.

 

//

 

A woman finds her in the pews of this place, reverent and silent and horrified, head bowed and fingers digging into the wooden seats so hard it splinters beneath her.

“Are you lost?” The woman asks, a hair falls loose from where its swept into a bun, and Kara cannot answer.

_No_ , she isnt lost. She’s meant to be where she is, mostly. She’s on Earth, she’s safe, she’s _alive_. She can’t explain that to this woman, not when her English is so raw that it’s equivalent to a child’s.

So, she shakes her head, bites her lip and tries not to cry because _where_ is Kal, where is the last connection to her home that she had, where is her - their - future?

“Do your parents know where you are?”

She nods this time, grave and slow and the woman seems to understand the severity of it, at least somewhat because she’s resting a hand on Kara’s shoulder, and Kara’s fingers lessen their pressure on the pews.

“Are your parents okay?”

She can’t nod, she can’t shake her head. She can’t _move_.

She feels her eyes heat up, closes them, tries to rinse her parents’ faces from her memory, tries to burn them in at the same time. She wants to hold onto them, wants to move on like they asked. She wants to remember Krypton, be Krypton - her parents are martyrs and she _has_ _to_ be the prophet.

The woman guides her to stand, and Kara can feel herself shake so violently that it threatens to throw her over, to collapse into the ground and implode on herself.

But she doesn’t, she stays upright, moves at this woman’s touch because this woman is patient and doesn’t expect answers and doesn’t ask anymore questions after that.

 

//

 

The woman walks with her hand in Kara’s, and Kara has always been warned of the intentions of strangers, but she cannot find it in herself to believe this woman capable of any harm. She is sturdy and compassionate and Kara thinks that maybe this woman reminds her a bit of Astra, the grey in her hair outweighing the false auburn that fades, the strong hand in hers that Kara can feel the pulse within, the steady beat of her heart that Kara can _hear_.

She couldn’t hear heartbeats on Krypton, only knew of them because that’s what she had been taught. Anatomy was different here, things were obvious, humans gave their humanity away in spades.

Kara envies them, even if she walks among them.

The woman takes her to another building, it’s smaller than the temple (church, they’re called churches here), and nowhere near as old.

The steps towards the door aren’t very large, and Kara resists the urge to race up them, to leave this woman in her wake. She stalks up them one by one, feels the ground beneath her feet give a little if she stomps too hard, resists the urge to crumble this world to pieces too.

The woman knocks on the door and Kara feels the sun on her back, and maybe things are a little warmer when another woman, younger than the one holding her hand, answers. Her eyes are green, the kind that reminds Kara of the foliage she read about in school, the kind Krypton could not grow.

“Hello,” the young woman says, widens the door to let Kara in. “My name is Sophie, what’s yours?”

Kara points to her chest with upturned brows, and Sophie nods.

“Kara,” she settles on, because Earth seems more subtle in their announcements of lineage. There’s no need to state she’s a daughter of a lost world, of a whole ‘nother universe beyond the human conception.

“Kara,” Sophie repeats, rolls it on her tongue. “Do you have a family, Kara?”

It feels like she’s been gutted, strung up for this world to see. Is it so glaringly obvious that she has no home, no family to return to, that she is so clearly and undoubtedly _lost_ here.

She shakes her head, feels tears well up in her eyes, so fat that they sting. There is no way to explain it to Sophie, to make her understand.

Sophie bends at the waist, rests her hands on her knees to be eye level with Kara. There’s a soft smile on her face, similiar to her father’s whenever he’d seen her break something but promise to not tell her mother.

“How old are you, Kara?”

She does not count the time spent in the Phantom Zone, cannot count it. She did not age, laid within an abyss, knowing the fate of her planet but not of herself.

“Thirteen,” she says, hopes it is the right answer on Earth.

“And do you need a home, Kara?”

The weight of it hits Kara square in the chest, wrings her lungs of air and she almost falls over, steadies herself with clenched fists and a tight jaw.

She wants to say _more than anything_ , but knows she cannot translate it yet. So, she nods, breathes in and hears herself quiver.

Sophie reaches out, slowly, lets Kara decide.

Kara falls into her, buries herself into the fabric of this woman’s shirt, of the closest thing to maternity she will ever receive again.

She pulls away quickly, wipes her eyes with her fingers and her nose with her sleeve, and when Sophie tells her to follow, she doesn’t think twice.

 

* * *

 

Lena had not seen a new face in what felt like years, and to see this small girl, blonde and shaking and confused - well, Lena didn’t know what to make of it.

She had never seen another teenager, not one that had not grown here. They were always babies, sometimes toddlers, never teenagers. Teenagers meant something _bad_ , something taboo and unspoken of - something painful.

Lena watches Sophie introduce this girl to everyone on the lower level of the foster home, from the small children that make the girl smile to those her own age that grunt at her in acknowledgement. Sophie does not notice Lena until she nearly walks into her.

“Oh, Lena,” she stops, breathes. Lena can’t blame her for the hesitance, she never was very welcoming. “I was just showing Kara around, perhaps you could help her to her room?”

She sets her lips to a thin line, flexes her fingers. “And which room would that be?”

“That depends,” Sophie looks to this girl - Kara, Lena makes herself remember. “Would you like to be alone?”

It seems to take Kara a few moments, and Lena watches as she processes the words, perhaps English is not her first language.

“No,” Kara shakes her head, drops it to look at her feet.

“Then, if you could, Lena,” Sophie nudges Kara forward, making her walk three steps upwards, to stand one below Lena. “Show her to your room, you have the only other free bed fit for someone as tall as Kara.”

“Of course,” Lena nods stiffly, wipes her palms on her jeans. “It’s just up here, this way.”

Lena makes it two steps up before she realises Kara isn’t following, head still bowed, eyes flickering despite being downcast.

Lena clears her throat, and Kara looks up this time, her lips are pursed and Lena isn’t sure if Kara even wants to be here, like, at all. She sighs, clicks her tongue before she offers Kara her hand.

Kara takes it, slowly but surely, grips tight enough that Lena feels like a lifeline.

“Play nice, girls,” Sophie calls out to them, winks at Lena and Lena groans. “I’ll call you when dinner's ready.”

 

//

 

Kara does not let go of Lena’s hand the whole time, and it’s only the tiniest bit inconvenient, because Kara’s hand is warm and Lena hasn’t had someone hold her in a very long time and it’s confusing because she’s not sure what she feels about it.

Lena sits on her bed, Kara following to sit beside her. Their hands switch, maneuver so that Kara’s rests beneath Lena’s, fingers locking together and Lena tries not to concentrate on how ragged Kara’s breathing is.

“Your bed is that one,” Lena points in front of her and Kara, to the only other bed in the room, made and kempt with a red blanket and blue pillow. “I haven’t had a roommate before, so I’m sorry if I’m bad at it.”

Kara takes some moments to think, Lena watches her brow crease. “It’s okay.”

Lena feels Kara’s thumb brush over hers, and she cannot help but ask, “Do you speak English?”

Kara laughs under her breath, and Lena takes a moment to just _watch_ because she has not seen a smile as bright as Kara’s - well, ever.

“Yes,” Kara bites her bottom lip, scrunches her face. “It’s tricky, there’s a lot to learn.”

“So it’s not your first language?”

Kara shakes her head, neck flaring red, “No.”

“What is, then?”

Kara thinks again, and Lena tries to commit this all to memory, because if Kara is going to be her roommate she needs to learn her tells.

“Foreign,” is all Kara says, and her voice cracks the tiniest bit when she continues. “I’m from very far away.”

Lena sees the way it hurts Kara to say it, and she thinks maybe Kara hadn’t just lost a family but a home, so she squeezes Kara’s hand a little tighter and nudges her shoulder with her own.

“You don’t have to tell me where,” she smiles, just a tiny bit, enough to make Kara look at her like she’s golden. “You’re okay, you’re safe here.”

Lena can tell that Kara wants to hug her, but she knows neither of them really need it right now, so when Kara holds her hand all the way down the stairs and only lets go to inhale two servings of roast potatoes, Lena is content to leave it at that.

 

* * *

 

At first, Kara dreams of Krypton. She falls asleep to Lena’s soft breathing and the rain against their window, and she feels a rush to see her home again, with its red sun and her cousin and her parents and her _family_.

She dreams of it so often that she does not notice their slow descent into nightmares, the way the inevitable crashes over her in her sleep. Even when she knows the truth, when she knows without doubt what’s going to happen, she awakes in a cold sweat and cries until the sun rises.

 

//

 

It’s after a week of nightmares that Kara eventually screams from the pain, of the crushing and debilitating _hurt_ , of the loss and the sacrifice and the pressure of being all that’s left.

She screams and she tangles her hands to the roots of her hair and tugs because she needs to feel real, needs to remember she is alive and that she’s safe.

She does not feel safe, feels the walls slowly close in and the floor drop from beneath her, feels her breath catch and she closes her eyes and squeezes them so tight that her head throbs.

“Shit,” she hears, its distant and cracked and she can't tell where it's coming from. “Shit, Kara.”

Hands shake at her, and she shakes with them, knows she’s reciting prayers in Kryptonese, wishing and wanting and yearning for her parents to come back to her.

“Kara, look at me, damn it,” there are hands on her face, pulling her, forcing her to look. She sees Lena, sees her frightened eyes and tight lips. “Kara.”

She breathes again, takes her hands from her hair. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lena’s shoulders drop, less tense. Her hands stay where they are, thumbs deft across her cheekbones. They come back wet, but neither of them say anything. “You’re safe. Here, with us, with me. You’re safe, I promise.”

Kara falls with the weight lifted off her, falls into Lena and Lena catches, soothes the strands of hair Kara has pulled at with the pads of her fingers.

Lena does not shush her when she cries, she does not ask why she’s crying or what the nightmares are about. Lena does not push and Kara isn’t sure if she’s crying for a dead world or revitalised hope.

 

* * *

 

Lena keeps her word, does not ask of where Kara comes from, soothes her when she starts shaking and keeps her distance when Kara’s knuckles turn white.

Kara realises that whatever is between them, it is a bond, a match, an understanding. Kara does not assume that Lena, too, had lost a world - but she thinks Lena understands.

They’re on their separate beds, the chilled night air seeping through the crack Kara had accidentally hit through it (they don’t talk about it. Lena doesn’t push and Kara chalks it up to being overly upset.). They’re facing each other, and Kara marvels at the sharpness of Lena’s shape in the moonlight, the way it shadows along her jaw - not all humans have the same structure as Lena, she’s noticed.

“How did you end up here?” Kara asks, because Lena seems too good, _is_ too good to be lonely, deserves a mansion and a family who will gift her things each year and celebrate her very existence.

Lena doesn’t answer at first, cracks an eye open and looks at Kara. Her face is pressed into her pillow, but she sits up to lean on her elbow, to let Kara see her when she speaks.

“I came here when I was four,” her voice is dry and low with sleep and it makes Kara wish she hadn’t asked - but they’ve been friends for nearly a month now, they should know these things about each other, she thinks. “I don’t remember all of what happened. Sophie was very nice when she found me, offered me a meal and a glass of milk before she asked how I ended up on her doorstep.”

Kara nods, feels the pull to be closer to Lena so strongly that she doesn’t realise she’s scooting forward in bed until her elbow hits the small set of drawers between them.

“I told her the truth. Or, as much truth that you can know when you’re so young.” Lena inhales, and Kara’s hearing is so much better on this planet but she wishes it wasn’t, because she hears the way it makes Lena ache. “My parents were alone here. They didn’t have family in this country, moved to America from Ireland for some reason or another. I think is was money, but I guess I’ll never know.”

“What happened to them?”

Lena’s eyes cast downwards, Kara watches her fingers fidget and clench at the bedsheet.

“They went missing,” Lena says it without tone, and Kara worries her bottom lip, hopes she hasn’t pushed too much. “I was at preschool when it happened. They didn’t pick me up, and we had no emergency contacts. My teacher was close with my mum, but she hadn’t heard or talked about anything like that with her, they mostly talked about me.”

Kara blows out a small breath, feels tight in her chest. “They just - vanished?”

“They weren’t murdered,” Lena’s harsh, her voice hoarse. Kara tentatively puts her feet to the ground, rolls out of bed and walks to Lena, folds her legs underneath her as she sits, head against Lena’s mattress to look at her. “There were some things left behind, letters mostly. A few of my dad’s shirts, a tie, a drawing I made for them the week before in class.”

“Lena, I,” she pushes up from the ground, sits on Lena’s bed this time, rests her hand against the one not holding Lena up, the one resting on her hip. “I’m so sorry.”

Lena shakes her head, “You did nothing wrong.”

“Still,”

Lena’s hand pushes Kara’s away as she sits up properly, face to face with Kara. This close, Kara can see the way Lena’s shirt hangs off her, sharp collarbone pale in the moonlight. Kara fixes it, props the white cotton onto her shoulder, not noticing the way Lena’s cheeks flush.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lena says it pointedly this time, nudges Kara’s bicep with a knuckle. “Besides, Sophie’s been really good with me. Patient. I wasn’t very nice at the start.”

Kara can’t believe that, hears Lena’s heart beat steady and strong, knows it’s a good heart, that Lena’s good.

“Plus, you have me.”

Lena smiles, smiles the way that makes her top lip curl to just below her nose, and Kara leans in, wraps her arms around Lena’s shoulders and tugs. Lena’s hands rest on her back, thumb rubbing at her shoulder blade and Kara hopes Lena doesn’t feel her shiver.

“Yeah,” Lena says into her hair, into her neck. “I do.”

 

* * *

 

Lena and Kara sit together during lunch at school, their uniforms untucked and they eat unceremoniously, loud with laughter and jokes, and Lena says nothing when Kara goes back for more mac and cheese three times.

They don’t have any classes together, because Lena is a year older than Kara, but Lena helps her, especially with English. Once they’ve eaten, Kara will pull her notebook out and ask Lena what certain words mean and Lena will explain without making her feel dumb or slow.

One time, Kara asks what a fairytale is, because her latest assignment is to rewrite an ending for one of her choice, and Lena nearly falls out of her chair.

“Really, Kara, sometimes I think you’re from another planet.”

Kara flushes from her ears to her chest, ducks her head, “No, this one. Definitely, very surely, from this one.”

Lena chuckles, leans forward to see Kara’s notes. “If you say so.”

Lena explains fairytales, and Kara tells her that they had them where she’s from. They just weren’t called that, because fairies didn’t exist there. Lena tells her fairies don’t exist here, either, that they’re made up to make kids happy, and Kara thinks its very nice even if people shouldn’t lie to their kids.

 

* * *

 

Lena gets into a fight just before the semester ends, one that gives her a blue and green bruise on her cheek and the boy a blood nose. One that Sophie has to be rung about because Lena and the boy’s stories aren’t matching up, because Lena is very adamant that she didn’t start it - even if she did hit first.

Kara comes home and goes right to her room, where Lena is lying on Kara’s bed, facing away from the door. Her breathing is even, but Kara knows she’s not asleep because she can hear Lena’s heartbeat pick up when Kara gets closer, footsteps creaking the floorboards.

“You didn’t need to hit him,” Kara starts, and Lena rolls over with a flare in her eyes she hadn’t ever seen until today. “But I’m glad you did.”

Lena’s face softens at that, shrugging as she sits up. “Me too.”

Kara sits beside Lena, leans back onto her hands to see her. “Even if Sophie is flipping her lid?”

“Your expressions are getting better,” Lena’s smile is wide, laugh lines deep with pride. “And _especially_ if Sophie is flipping her lid, I haven’t made her do that in a long time.”

“I have a feeling she’s not going to let the school suspend you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Lena’s head drops, biting her lower lip and breathing in before she speaks again. “Especially if it was to do with you, I think you’re her favourite.”

“It was to do with me?”

Lena laughs, “I didn’t hit him to defend your honour or anything.”

“Then why?”

“Because, I hear him when he walks by our table, I hear what he says on his way out of English when I come to pick you up.” Lena’s smile is gone, thin line and sharp eyes. “You’re _not_ a freak, and you’re definitely not stupid. I tried to talk to him about it, to tell him that he’s being hurtful and that you’re nothing like what he said. But then he - he just kept _going_. He said worse things, about you, things I don’t want to repeat.”

She doesn't ask Lena to say them, not even sure if she’d want to know at all. She takes Lena’s hand, unfurls the fist there and twines their fingers together.

“So you beat the hell out of him, because he pissed you off?”

Lena laughs, “When you put it like that, I sound like the bad guy.”

“Hardly,” Kara, in a burst of gut-curdling courage, reaches up to brush her thumb along the bruise, tracing the yellowing splotch. “My hero.”

Lena whines, and Kara thinks it's just because she may have pushed a little too hard on the bruise.

 

* * *

 

Kara learns of birthday celebrations on Earth through Lena, who is woken early by Sophie and given breakfast in bed, followed by a present - a nice, shiny fountain pen (Lena guards it with her life).

There had been birthdays, of course, on Krypton, but in the lead up to her planet’s destruction, the time for parties had ceased and Kara’s presents were left for her on the nightstand, her parents both at work and her aunt Astra leaving her a written apology.

Lena hadn’t mentioned her birthday, when Kara had asked Lena had always told her it didn’t matter. Kara understands, but she’s also kind of mad about it because Lena’s fifteen now, she should be having a party and going out with friends and _celebrating_.

Instead, Lena goes over some notes with Kara, helps her with her readings and Kara is grateful but also so, so angry.

“I’m not more important than your birthday.” She tells Lena, their heads nearly bumping together at the dining table, leaning over a novel.

Lena shakes her head, the hair in her ponytail brushing against Kara’s neck with the movement.

“My birthday isn’t important.”

The other kids look at them, silent for a moment, before Sophie comes in with fresh snacks and their attention is divided. Kara and Lena don’t move, Kara looking at Lena, Lena trying so hard to only look at the book.

“Your birthday is important,” Kara stands, chair scraping against the floor loud enough for Sophie to look over at them, crease in her forehead. “ _You’re_ important. How can you not think that?”

Lena looks up at her, jaw slack, “Because it’s _just_ a birthday, Kara.”

Kara huffs, turning away from her, arms crossed. “You don’t get it.”

Lena doesn’t chase her when she walks away, eyes burning.

 

//

 

Kara doesn’t come down for dinner, and Lena feels just as hollow and empty as every other year when Sophie brings her a cake, fifteen candles to make a love heart burning bright.

They sing to her, and Lena wishes the ground would swallow her, that she was just back home, back with her family.

Lena blows out the candle and doesn’t wish for that, because those things are of the past and she needs to move on, move forward. She wishes to understand.

Once she helps Sophie get the younger kids ready for bed, she’s cornered, Sophie’s pointed finger threatening and nostrils wide.

“Go tell Kara you were wrong.”

“But,” she starts, the words dying on her tongue.

“Go tell her you’re sorry, because we don’t have time for self pity in this house, Lena,” Sophie’s voice softens, her finger crooking back until her palms are resting on Lena’s shoulders. “I don’t want you being rash, I don’t want you dwelling. You two are good for each other, you make each other better. Don’t throw it away because you think you don’t deserve it.”

Lena nods, and Sophie gathers her into her arms, hugs her fiercely and Lena thinks maybe birthdays are okay.

 

//

 

When Lena goes up to her room, she can barely open the door before Kara is rushing into her, arms strong and around her in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” Kara mumbles it into where Lena’s shoulder meets her neck, now wet with tears. “I shouldn’t have snapped, I know you don’t think you’re worth celebrating and I’m so _dumb_ to try and make it about me.”

Kara has her pressed against the door, cold wood contrasting the intense and overwhelming heat of Kara’s body and Lena has to pause to think about anything other than _that_.

“I’m sorry, too,” her hand rubs along Kara’s spine, the other resting at her waist. “I forget that people actually care, I forget that I should care too. I should have told you it was my birthday, I should have let myself tell you. I don’t - I’m still not worth it, but. I need to let you think I am, because you do and I don’t know why.”

Kara pulls away just enough to wipe at her eyes with her sleeve - Lena’s sleeve, it's her sweater - and smile at Lena.

“Dummy,” she says it around a sob, and Lena laughs, gets up to her tiptoes to kiss Kara’s forehead. It’s too dark now to be certain, but Lena thinks she sees Kara go red. “I, uh. I have a present. Um, for you.”

Lena lets herself be dragged by the hand to their window, watching Kara open it with ease even though Lena’s pretty sure she jammed it when she was ten.

She lets go of Kara’s hand to follow her, onto the tiles of their roof. Lena doesn’t look down, refuses to.

Kara must notice, because she reaches for Lena’s hand again.

“We’re going to go higher, to the very top, but,” Kara takes a deep breath, Lena tries not to concentrate on the way Kara’s muscles move. “I need you to hold onto me.”

Lena holds up their joined hands, “I am?”

“No, no, I mean,” Kara sighs, huffs, stamps her foot in a personal tantrum before she tugs Lena by the hand, until they’re flush together. “Just. Oh, Rao - just put your arms around my neck. Please?”

Lena wants to laugh, because seeing Kara this nervous is brilliant and refreshing, but she can’t because it’s impossible to ignore the way her stomach swoops when she does what Kara asks.

“If this is your way of asking me out,” she trails off, figures she can get away with jokes like this now because she’s fifteen and this is what humour is to people her age.

“What? No, I,” Kara shakes her head, laughs when Lena laughs. “Just shut up and hold on, Casanova.”

Lena laughs all the way up until she realises Kara isn't helping her climb to the top of the roof, that they’re moving without walking, that Kara is _flying_.

This time, she looks down, watches their feet hover, tightens her grip on Kara and feels her neck bob as she swallows.

They land on the roof and Lena is holding onto Kara so tightly she thinks she may have broken skin, but Kara is taut and unbreakable beneath her no matter how hard she presses or pushes.

“Are you scared?” Kara mumbles the question into her hair, and Lena can feel her quaking, wants to ask Kara the same question.

“No, just,” she searches for a word, pulls away from Kara enough to see her. “I’m confused.”

Kara nods, moves to sit against the chimney of the house. Lena follows, slowly, sits beside Kara but resists the urge to touch her.

“Do you remember when you said I wasn’t from this planet?”

Lena nods, sits forward to lean on her drawn up knees, rests her chin there to look at Kara.

“That’s because I’m not,” and Kara says it so shortly, so simply, that Lena can only believe her. “I told you I was from very far away, which is true. My planet, Krypton - my home - it. It was dying. My father, he was a scientist, he tried to stop it, but.”

Kara has her head leaned backwards, against the chimney to look up at the stars. This time, Lena reaches for her, rests her pinky next to Kara’s on the tiles.

“You came here to be safe, didn’t you?”

Kara nods. “My parents sent me to Earth, me and my cousin, Kal. But my pod, it went off course, the explosion from my planet - it sent me into something called the Phantom Zone.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Kara shakes her head when Lena tries to respond. “It’s literally nothing. There’s no time, no gravity, it's completely void. I was there for years, I don’t remember how many, but it was easily over twenty.”

Lena feels her mouth open, “Shit. Kara I’m,”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Kara’s voice is tight, Lena shuffles closer. “You couldn’t have done anything, not even my parents could. Earth is nice. The sun here is beautiful, and I’m stronger and faster here, and I can’t get hurt because my skin is tougher here - I’m not weak here.”

Lena gathers enough sense to lift Kara’s hand, fold it into hers. “You’re here, that’s what matters. Your parents would be proud of what you’ve done in nearly a year.”

Kara rolls her eyes, “All I’ve done is go to school and eat.”

“That too,” Lena smiles at Kara, and she thinks Kara looks at her the same way she looks at the sun. “But you’ve learned here, grown here. You have a family, you have friends, you’ve helped people.”

“Helping Sophie with the dishes isn’t heroic.”

Lena clicks her tongue, nudges her shoulder. “You know what I mean. You helped that one girl in your math class when she failed the last test. You skipped lunch with me for a week just to make sure that boy from your homeroom wasn’t by himself, even if your English grade dropped. And, you’ve helped me.”

“You?”

Lena nods, “I’m smart, Kara, but I’m not good with people. I don’t trust easily, and then suddenly you come in, looking like a deer in headlights, and before I know it you’re cracking open nearly every part of me and making yourself at home.”

Kara stops looking at the stars, brings her head low enough to look at Lena. With eyes as wet as morning and smile as bright as the moon, she stands, bringing Lena with her.

“I forgot to give you your present.”

“Telling me you’re secretly an alien wasn’t it?”

Kara’s whole body shakes in disagreement. “No, that was just to make sense of it.”

“Go on, then.”

Kara seems to pause then, a full stutter in her movements before, “You need to put your arms around me. Maybe, um, a little tighter this time. Just in case.”

Lena keeps her mouth shut, doesn’t make fun of the way Kara blushes and stammers, puts her arms around her neck, locking her hands behind Kara.

“Okay,” Kara says, and Lena isn’t sure who it’s meant for. Kara’s arms loop around her waist, wrapped tight enough to hold her either side, and Lena has to remember to focus on Kara’s heartbeat to forget her own. “Hope you don’t get motion sickness.”

 

//

 

Kara flies in the straightest line she can while being surrounded by Lena, by the smell of her perfume and the way her fingers dig into Kara’s back and the way she yelps when they shoot into the sky.

Kara stops before she can reach the lowest of clouds, knows that’s too high for humans and she wants Lena to remember, to be safe and not lightheaded and hopefully as blown away by Earth as Kara.

“You can look now,” Kara tells her, loosens her grip just a little so Lena can swivel in her grasp. She hears Lena’s intake of breath, sharp and maybe a tiny bit frightened but mostly in awe and Kara is so happy to watch Lena’s face light up. “Like it?”

“Kara, its,” and Kara doesn’t expect Lena to finish, expects nothing, if she’s honest. Everything Lena gives her is unprompted and generous and makes Kara’s heart swell. “Yes.”

“Thank Rao,” she lets her breath leave her in a laugh, a quiet one meant for them. “I wanted you to see Earth the way I do. It was really scary at first, everything was loud and new and I wanted to go right back home. But, Earth is home now. This, you, I - you make me feel like I belong here, Lena.”

Kara thinks Lena looks ready to punch her, eyes so wide and jaw so clenched that Kara is almost lowering them to the ground to let Lena walk away.

Instead, Lena’s grip moves from the back of her neck to her jaw, thumbs on her cheeks and Kara watches Lena’s eyes flutter shut before she kisses her.

Kara doesn’t move, can’t move, freezes up because she’s fourteen and she’s an alien and Lena is her best friend and _can best friends do that?_

“I’m sor-”

Kara doesn’t let Lena finish her sentence, pulls Lena in by the hips and lets herself not think for once. She kisses Lena slowly because she’s scared, because she’s only seen this in movies and on television and it’s _never_ been two girls, never been kilometres in the sky where the wind whips and no one cares, where it's short and sweet but it _doesn’t stop_ and Kara remembers that humans need air more than she does so she pulls away.

Kara sees Lena and wants to tell her she’s never done that before, never felt like doing it before, that Lena keeps showing Kara all the things Earth has to offer and that she wants to kiss Lena for the rest of her life.

Instead she says, “Shit, sorry.”

Lena takes a moment, and Kara kisses her forehead to keep it from creasing.

“Not for the kiss. Kisses,” Kara explains, starts lowering them back to the roof. “Because, I, um - I sort of, maybe, flew higher when we did.”

Lena freezes, starts to look down but Kara rushes to say “don’t”, lifts her chin and then Lena’s kissing her again and Kara has to remind herself _down not up_.

 

//

 

They climb back in through the window, make sure to be as quiet as they can through a mass of giggles and hushed whispers.

Lena hugs Kara once the window is shut, with so much force that Kara falls back against her bed. Kara laughs and Lena’s chuckle rumbles low into her chest and against Kara’s neck.

“Happy birthday?”

Lena pushes up onto her hands, flushing at the realisation that she’s on top of Kara, on Kara’s _bed_. Kara sits up, steadying Lena, pressing their foreheads together.

“Without question,” Lena presses into Kara, against Kara, soft and warm and adoring. “Thank you.”

Kara presses a kiss to Lena’s temple, leans back and throws the covers around them, somehow less embarrassed by it all than Lena.

It’s only when Lena is asleep, when her heart slows and her face is smushed into Kara’s collar, that Kara speaks again.

“ _Thank you,_ ” she whispers, Kryptonese rolling off her tongue in waves.

For the first time, it doesn’t hurt.

For the first time, she is free of nightmares.

 

* * *

 

Kara expects something to change, to shift between her and Lena, because that’s what usually happens after the people in movies kiss. They go on dates, they tell everyone or keep it secret, they make out and all of those _things_.

But they don’t. Lena still holds her hand, still helps her with English, still snaps at her when she’s had a rough day and apologises as soon as they’ve both cooled down.

The only thing that’s changed is that Kara can kiss Lena and Lena can kiss Kara, whenever they want, because they _can_.

They don’t make out, sometimes Lena will kiss her for a really long time (not that Kara’s complaining) and sometimes Lena’s hands will be quick but they’re never rough or pushy and Kara melts into her all over again because Lena knows they don’t need to do any of that - that they can if they want but they’re both content to read together and talk about Krypton and to fall asleep together.

Kara thinks she likes it much, _much_ more than the movies.

 

* * *

 

Lena is reading over Kara’s essay when there’s a knock at their door, Kara looking up right away, fingers still sifting through Lena’s hair.

“You have visitors, Kara.”

Lena puts the essay down, tilts her head to look at Kara, gnaws her bottom lip.

“I’ll be okay,” she scratches at the base of Lena’s hairline, runs her hand down Lena’s neck. “I mean it. Be right back.”

Kara isn’t sure what she expects to find at the bottom of the stairs, but a teenager with wide eyes and a grin was probably the last on the list.

She makes it to the second last step before the girl fills her space, and Kara notices that when the girl smiles one of her front teeth is crooked.

“I’m Alex Danvers,” she sticks her hand out, and Kara takes it, shakes it twice. “This is my mom and dad, Eliza and Jeremiah.”

Kara notices the two of them behind Alex now, two smartly dressed adults with faces that match an early Earth sitcom.

“I’m Kara,” she tells them, and Alex bounces on her toes and tells her she knows, and her mother rests a hand on Alex’s shoulder to settle her.

“We’d like to speak to you, Kara, if that’s alright.”

Kara follows the voice to Jeremiah, a big man with rosy cheeks and she nods because these people seem lovely.

She realises that Jeremiah meant speak alone, without Alex or Sophie or Lena, and so Kara tells Alex that she can go up to her room and talk to Lena if she wants, and Alex smiles at her before running up the stairs, screaming down a “thank you”.

Eliza’s hand guides her to the front porch, and Kara sits without hesitation, Eliza following suit on her right, while Jeremiah leans against the railing of the stairs on her left.

“Kara, neither of us know exactly how to approach what we came here for.” Jeremiah admits, and Kara watches him fold his arms, pull at the thread of his jacket.

“So just tell me, you can explain it if I get confused.”

“Okay,” Eliza nods, leans forward a little so her height is level with Kara’s. “We know someone, someone like you. And, he wants us to take care of you from now on.”

“Like, you wanna adopt me?”

Jeremiah nods. “We helped him, the person like you. We showed him how to hone in on his - his powers. He didn’t grow up with us, but he learned from us, while also living with his family.”

“So, I can still live with my family, right?”

This time, he shakes his head, and Kara is even more confused than she was at the beginning.

“Things aren’t as safe as they used to be, and Clark,” he clears his throat. “Kal. Kal wants us to keep you safe, because he can’t right now.”

Kara feels her chest go tight, her shoulders tensing as she looks up at them.

“ _Kal_ ,” she says, with the inflection of her native tongue, with the weight of Krypton settling between her ribs. “He knows I’m here, he’s known all along. And only when I start _flying_ and being happy, that’s when he wants me to be safe? Not when I was breaking windows or setting things on fire every time I was mad?”

“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” Eliza rushes, rests her hands on top of Kara’s. “He wants you to be safe, wants the people around you to be safe. He wants you to live with us, for a little while, just until you learn how to control everything, so you don’t hurt people and people don’t hurt you.”

She balls her hands, nails digging into her palms, “Nobody has hurt me.”

“But they could,” Jeremiah runs a hand through his hair. “Kal changed his name, became someone that couldn’t be hurt for what he is. Your parents sent you down here to _live_ , Kara, not to be lynched for being different.”

Her head feels fuzzy, everything is suddenly loud again and she can’t control it, can’t make it stop.

“You want to teach me how to control this, these powers. You want me to learn how to be normal, so I don’t get hurt. So I don’t,” she thinks of Lena, of how she whined when Kara pressed on her bruise, how scared she was when Kara broke their window, how she’s strong enough to turn Lena to dust if she wanted, if she couldn’t help it. “So I don’t hurt people I care about.”

“Yes,” Eliza gathers her in her arms when she begins to cry, holds her close and Kara can’t even concentrate on Eliza’s heartbeat. “We just want you to be okay, and we’ll take care of you, Kara. You will - can be our daughter. We have room for another, Alex would love to have a sister.”

Kara sniffs, “You mean, like, a proper family?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

Kara thinks about it, about how she lost her whole world with her family, lost Kal when she came here, how Lena is lovely and beautiful and _hers_ but she certainly doesn’t feel like Kara’s sister. Kara has learned to love and she’s learned to adore and she’s learned _so_ much of everything, except how to control her powers, how not to hurt people.

So she nods, asks if she can have a few more days here and Jeremiah nods, says they’ll come back on Saturday night - so they have time to buy more food because Kal warned them of Kryptonian metabolism, to redecorate the spare room that will now be hers, to leave the spare mattress in Alex’s room in case Kara doesn’t want to be alone.

Kara hugs them, hugs Alex, who tells her she can’t wait to show her the stars she’s stuck in the middle of her bedroom roof, how she made Jeremiah find sticker glue at a stationary store so she could draw Krypton for Kara, and Kara’s heart feels so full in her chest that it threatens to burst.

It's not until the Danvers have left that the fullness in her chest turns hollow, because she has to leave Lena to protect her, to keep her safe and she knows neither of them are going to take this well.

For Kara and Lena to have a world together, Kara has to leave the one they’ve built behind first.

 

* * *

 

Kara doesn’t know how to tell Lena, if she even needs to. Lena holds onto her a little tighter, a little longer. She kisses her without that forced restraint, never taking but always giving, hands in Kara’s hair or down her spine or in her own.

Kara aches to tell Lena, wishes it didn’t have to be this way because it's _not fair_. She’s only been on Earth a year, she needs more time.

She thinks maybe even if her and Lena had forever, she’d still want longer.

She fidgets the day she tries to tell Lena, nearly tells her every time there’s silence between them, but Lena’s head will rest in Kara’s lap and Kara will tangle her fingers in Lena’s hair and try to commit the feeling to her memory.

Lena asks for her, in the dead of night in a whisper so small Kara’s almost sure she missed it.

“You’re going to live with the Danvers, aren’t you?”

Lena’s sitting between Kara’s legs, her back against her front, Kara _feels_ Lena’s heart pick up when she stays quiet for a moment, hands tracing down Lena’s forearms.

“They want to teach me how to control my powers,” she says, realises she sounds clinical so she tries again. “They want me to stay safe, to keep the people around me safe. _Kal_ came to them, Lena, _he’s_ the one who wants this.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I want to keep everyone around me safe,” she admits, head dropping to Lena’s shoulder. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Then it’s an easy choice,” Lena’s voice cracks but they both pretend it didn’t. “You have to go.”

“I don’t, I can learn on my own.”

Lena’s laugh is dark, she shakes her head, swivels to face Kara, legs folded beneath her.

“You can’t, your powers - they’re extreme,” Lena says, and Kara feels her stomach drop to her knees, her eyes starting to sting. “I’m not afraid of you, Kara. I know you would never hurt me, or anyone else, willingly.”

“Willingly,” Kara repeats, it tastes like venom. “I need you to know that I don’t want to leave, I need you to be sure of that, okay. I’m not leaving you, I’m not going to vanish.”

Lena nods, “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara lets herself be hugged, lets everything wash over her because she actually doesn’t know if she’ll see Lena again, needs to pretend for the both of them that there’s a chance she will. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lena says it against her shirt, Kara knows it's because she can't look at her. She’s never seen Lena cry, and she doesn’t think Lena would show her now. “You have a chance at a family, a normal life. Take it, don't let it slip.”

Kara threads her fingers through Lena’s hair, wishing she went to a different home, one where they hated her so when the Danvers came it would feel like rescue instead of abandonment.

“You’re my family, too.”

She feels Lena take a shuddering breath, doesn’t let go of her when she pulls back, traces her eyes over every part of Lena, _needing_ to remember her.

“Which is exactly why we’ll find each other again,” Lena hooks their pinkies together, holds them between their faces, smiles but Kara can see it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Just like you and Kal.”

 

* * *

 

Jeremiah helps her carry her things to the car, even if _things_ are three shirts, a pair of jeans and a duffle of whatever she shoved into her dresser drawer. Alex offers to help but her face falls when Kara tells her that’s it, doesnt mention that the only sign she lived here were dog-tagged books and Lena.

Eliza takes Alex’s hand, lets Kara have some time to say her goodbyes.

She hugs all the kids, tells them to not give up, gives each of them a sneaky dollar she’d saved under her pillow that she wanted to spend on candy when the holidays rolled around.

She has no choice in hugging Sophie, the woman folding her arms around Kara, lifting her by the underside of her arms to spin her before complaining about her back. Kara laughs into her shoulder and thanks her for everything.

She stops halfway up the stairs, turning back to Sophie. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe she should just go, let her and Lena’s night on the roof be their goodbye.

“Go to her,” Sophie says, waves her hands at her. “Go on, go tell her you’ll miss her and write to her and that you won’t forget her.”

Kara nods, breathes, tries not to run too quickly for a human, knocks on Lena’s door. It’s not hers - theirs - anymore, it’s Lena’s, _just_ Lena again.

She hears Lena grunt on the other side, so she comes in.

Lena’s eyes are red rimmed, but not wet. Her cheeks are raw, her palms too, Kara pretends not to know.

“You’re leaving,” its not a question, and the _leaving me_ goes unsaid. Kara nods, makes her way to Lena.

“Yeah,” she stops in front of Lena, Lena in _her_ bed, with the red blanket up to her hips. “The Danvers, they’re outside.”

“Best to not keep them waiting,” Lena’s voice is rough, gravelly. “Go on.”

“Lena,”

“Kara, don’t,” Lena breathes, shaky and caught in her chest and Kara can’t help it, she rushes into her, buries her head into the crook of Lena’s neck. “Don’t.”

Kara isn't sure if Lena wants to say _don't leave_ or _don't make this harder_. She’s glad Lena doesn't finish, can’t finish.

Kara leans back, holds both Lena’s pinkies with hers.

“I’m going to write to you until you tell me to stop,” she starts, and Lena laughs, wet and sad but _real_. “I’m going to think about you - a lot, probably - it’s kinda hard not to. I’m going to miss you, Rao am I going to miss you.”

Lena smiles, bittersweet and she bumps her forehead with Kara’s.

“Ditto.”

“And I’m definitely, not ever, never ever, going to forget you,” her hands shake as she says it, but she needs to make sure Lena knows. “Just go to the roof whenever you need to, because even if I’m not there with you - I kinda will be,” she brings one of their hands to Lena’s chest, “here.”

“That is the sappiest bullshit,” Lena’s laughing against her, smiling when she kisses her once, twice. “But thank you. You can go to the roof of the Danvers’ place too, if they let you.”

“You forget,” Kara hovers a few inches off the bed. “I have a slight advantage over them.”

Lena pulls her back down to the bed, kisses her again, hands on her cheeks, in her hair, committing Kara to memory and Kara’s sort of relieved she’s not the only one doing that.

“You should get going,” Lena says, Kara chasing after her mouth. “I mean it, Supergirl, get outta here. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can see each other again.”

Kara nods, drags Lena with her all the way to the front door.

She stands on the porch, Lena in the foyer, a doorway between them. Their hands are still clasped, and Kara leans over the threshold to kiss Lena, just in case.

Alex whistles at them from the backseat of Jeremiah’s car, winks when Kara flushes bright red. Lena laughs, and it feels like fresh air in Kara’s lungs, because it's not bitter or tainted with longing, it's just _Lena_.

“I’ll see you later.” Kara says, because goodbye is finite, goodbye means never again.

Lena nods, squeezes her hands before letting go. “See you, Miss Danvers.”

When Kara tears herself away and makes it to the car, Alex asks if Lena is Kara’s girlfriend.

“Something like that,” Kara answers, and Alex smirks.

“So an alien _and_ gay,” she says, seems to roll it over in her head as the car begins to move. Kara wants to correct her, tell her that she likes boys too, but she can see the playful jeer in Alex’s eyes and doesn’t bother. “Sister jackpot, we’re gonna have so much to talk about.”

Kara can see Eliza smiling at them from the passenger mirror, fond gaze on Alex and Kara watches as it drifts to her, staying just as fond.

Kara thinks she may have hit the jackpot, too.

 


	2. Heaven and hell were words to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Kara and Lena miss each other, and I can't resist Luthor irony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the amount of chapters bc this time it Really Did get away from my gay ass

Kara writes three letters to Lena in a row, Lena doesn’t have the chance to reply promptly. She’s swept up in school, in taking on new electives and furthering herself - that, and she has nothing to say back to Kara, not yet.

She wants to reply, wants to send three separate letters back, imagines the way it would make Kara’s eyes light up if she did. But Kara was the only interesting aspect of Lena’s life, and without her, things are as dreary and mundane as they always had been before her.

Lena tries to be excited for Kara, and truthfully, she is very happy that Kara got to have a home and a family. Kara writes of how  _ big _ their home is, how Alex decorated for her (even if she hasn’t entirely warmed up to being seen with her at school), how she gets to help Eliza cook dinner because she  _ ‘can't live off take-out’  _ when she leaves - its stinging, if Lena is honest, because while she wants the world for Kara, the universe for Kara, Lena wants to be a reason for her happiness, too.

She responds after the fifth letter, keeps them all stacked in a neat pile in the bottom drawer of her dresser. She takes her time, makes sure to loop each of her words so Kara can read them. She answers Kara’s questions, asks her own in kind, and all in all, its successful - Lena doesn’t cry.

She posts it, and prays that Kara doesn’t lose herself in this new world, that she doesn’t forget Lena along the way.

 

* * *

 

Kara loves the Danvers. Loves their generosity, their kindness. She loves that Eliza holds her close, that Jeremiah gives her space when she needs, that he’ll make her a mug of cocoa with extra marshmallows if she doesn’t want to talk about it.

She loves Alex, who talks to her about the stars and asks if they’re just as pretty up close, teases her to ask if Lena is prettier. Kara can’t answer, decides it's too hard a contest and throws a pillow at a laughing Alex for making her choose.

They take Kara to the zoo when she asks, because she’s only seen domesticated animals on Earth, and she gets to feed the giraffe and point at a gorilla scratching itself and say “it's you” to Alex, who clicks her tongue and pushes her into a railing - Kara humours her, falls back, acts human. She  _ fits in _ here, now, with the Danvers.

She has a family, one that will laugh at her jokes, won’t correct her if she speaks Kryptonese in times of stress, who ask about Rao and how things worked back on her planet, who genuinely show interest in her and spend time with her and  _ love _ her.

Kara isn’t sure what she did to deserve them, just that she gushes about them to Lena, and hopes that Lena doesn’t think she’s doing it on purpose.

 

* * *

 

Lena finds it difficult to respond to all of Kara’s letters. She’s not good with words - sure, she can snipe and drawl and have a quick wit - but to express herself, verbally? It’s tricky.

It was easy with Kara, she could hold Kara’s hand a certain way and Kara would know exactly what it all had meant. She could lie in silence with Kara and Kara would just  _ know _ to scratch at the base of Lena’s hairline, to soothe her.

Lena can’t do that with letters, because  _ I miss you _ doesn't seem like enough anymore.

It's a gaping kind of miss, the kind that weighs her down, the kind she feels in the pit of her stomach, the kind that leaves her gasping for air in the dead of night because she can’t cry, not again, not over something she can't change.

She writes to Kara one in four times Kara writes to her, and Lena hopes Kara doesn't notice.

 

* * *

 

Alex is lying half on top of Kara, stomach across Kara’s lap, when she asks Kara what it means to like girls on Krypton.

Kara’s hand stops scratching at Alex’s back, and Alex rolls over, shimmies up to sit with her knees over Kara’s instead, to look at her when she responds.

“I’m not sure,” Kara says eventually. “On Krypton, things were decided by a match.”

“Like a matchmaker?”

Kara shakes her head, thinks of how to explain it in English.

“It’s like, how compatible you are, in every aspect.” Alex tilts her head, so she keeps going, tries again. “I think it's similar, sort of, to how humans are. Here, people are usually compatible because they meet through social circles, like, a party. You share interests with them, so you have something to talk about. They have a job, so they can provide. They’re attractive to you, so you will have attractive children who will also then mate.”

“Wait, hang on,” Alex’s voice is bubbly, laughter barely contained as she leans forward. “You mean people are hot on Krypton because you’ll have a better family line, and not because you want to sleep with them?”

“We don’t really,” she flushes, swallows. “Desire isn’t really a thing. We mate to keep the Kryptonian lineage strong.”

“But that’s totally different here, right?” Alex prods at her shoulder, because Kara is starting to close in, feel embarrassed. “Like, Clark has probably had a girlfriend, right?”

“I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve really asked Kal about it,” she shudders at the idea, mouth turning sour. “I know that attraction here is different, maybe. It hits harder, it’s not so much a system here as it is a feeling. Normally, we would think about our matches, and only then would we share ourselves with them.”

“I’m guessing Lena was different.”

Kara nods, “Yeah.”

“And the fact that she’s a girl, would that have mattered on Krypton?”

Kara scrunches her nose, “Would it matter here?”

Alex sighs, shrugs her shoulders, doesn’t look at Kara when she says, “sometimes.”

 

//

 

Kara waits until Alex is asleep before she climbs out the window, settles herself on the roof. The Danvers don’t have a chimney, so she hovers for a bit, thinks of maybe flying two towns over to see Lena.

She wouldn’t make it, Midvale is pretty far from Star City, and she knows it would be selfish to leave without a note, without letting anyone know.

Things are different in Midvale, somehow louder and brighter and she’s not as good as focusing as she used to be, her eyes sting a lot more and her ears are sore when she goes to sleep. The roof helps, above ground level, things are are quieter, more bearable.

Jeremiah is waiting in Alex’s doorway when she flies back in, crooks a finger at her and Kara thinks she’s in trouble until he rests his hand between her shoulder blades, ushers her through the hallway into her own room. She hasn’t slept in here yet, keeps all her new clothes and books in here, but always sleeps with Alex, with company and comfort.

She sits on her bed when Jeremiah does, by his side, and he lets out a low breath.    
“It’s still kind of lonely here, isn’t it?” He asks.

Kara nods, because she knows he’s not asking if they’re a family, if she has friends. She knows he’s asking that, if given the chance, if it was a fact that everyone would be safe, that she wouldn’t be  _ home _ . 

“I miss everyone,” she replies, and she’s sick of mourning, of having to leave things behind.

“I know, kiddo,” he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a pair of glasses. “I know it’s been rough, with all this happening, with you adjusting to everything still. You’re doing really good, you’re getting so much better with controlling your powers.”

“Thank you,” and she means it, takes the glasses from him, rolls them over by the frame. “What are these?”

“Well, Clark told me that there were some things that are harder to control, like the vision and hearing. He said the hearing gets easier, that you can learn to block it out or tap in,” he points at the glasses. “But these? They’re lead. Clark said you can't see through that. So, I thought, if you wore these, then your eyes wouldn’t hurt so much.”

She beams at him, throws her arms around his neck and holds him tight. She’s learned, mostly, how hard she can hug without hurting, thinks that might be one of the most useful things she’s learned yet.

When she pulls back, she bounces, slips the glasses on.

She thanks Jeremiah until she falls asleep. And in the morning, when Eliza tells her they suit her, and Alex says she doesn’t look like a  _ complete  _ nerd, Kara thinks she feels something a lot like relief.

 

* * *

The first time Lena meets Lillian, Sophie cannot make it up to her room in time to warn her.

The woman knocks but does not wait before walking in, dressed head to toe in monochrome, stalks to where Lena is sitting against the foot of her bed, and waits for Lena to look up at her.

“Um, hello,” Lena says, puts down the essay Kara had sent her for proofreading. “Who are you?”

Her stare is pointed, appraising, and Lena feels the need to stand, to prove some sort of worth in front of this woman.

“Lillian Luthor,” she extends her hand, gloved in leather, and Lena takes it. “I have an offer for you.”

“Let me guess,” Lena drops Lillian’s hand, begins to drawl. “I’m either up for a scholarship of some kind, or I’m secretly a princess and you wish to take me to Genovia.”

Lillian humours her with a smile. “While I’m more than certain you’re apt for a scholarship, that is not why I’m here.”

“Then why?”

“I’ve looked at your record, Lena, and have talked to Sophie.” She presses down the lapels of her coat, smoothes the pockets. “You’re smart, very smart. You, though improperly, are willing to beat down those who oppose the people you care for. You exceed expectation within your classes, and are quite pretty. For an added bonus, we won’t even need to change your name.”

Lena furrows her brows, shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I - and my family, of course - wish to adopt you,” she cuts in on Lena’s interruption, Lena left slack-jawed. “The papers are ready to be signed. You would be given anything you desire, no matter the cost. You will go to a private school, get the education you deserve, one that challenges you. You will have vacations overseas, or in the very comfort of your backyard, if you prefer. You will have a brother, and he will love you and teach you and guide you.”

“Wait,” Lena holds up a hand, Lillian stops with a quirk of her lips. “I’ll have a brother?”

“Lex,” Lillian nods. “He’s brilliant, Lena. And he would love if you could join us, if you would become part of our family.”

Lena’s heart picks up at the word. She has had a taste for family, yearned for it since she came here, to have people to come back to, who will support you, humour you,  _ love _ you.

“Family,” she rolls it on her tongue, it's sweet, sticks to her teeth like candy. “Our family.”

Lillian seems more proud than elated, but Lena cannot bring herself to analyse it.

She thinks of Kara, in that moment, of being held kilometres in the sky, with arms secure around her and Lena wants so badly to feel like that again that she tries to emulate it when Lillian holds out her hand and she takes it, this time walking out with her.

 

* * *

Lena forgets to tell Kara that she had been adopted.

Kara cries into Alex’s shoulder after a month without replies, and Alex tells her that she deserves better, that she should just forget all about Lena.

 

* * *

Kara tries to forget Lena. Tries to the very bone, flies until the wind hits her cheeks so hard they cut, goes to the junkyard and throws cars against each other until her muscles are burning.

She heals quick enough that nobody asks questions.

 

//

 

Lena tries to forget Kara. With all her might, throws herself into learning French and German and Italian, into tinkering with Lex in his own personal garage, into sitting and talking and holding oneself like a Luthor.

Her head throbs and all too often she is reminded she’s human, Lex will leave her two aspirin and a bottle of water on her nightstand with a note that reads:  _ ‘Father will notice if you steal another one of his Merlots, just ask me next time’ _ .

 

//

 

Both try, though neither really ever prevail.

 

* * *

It's been two years since Kara has talked to Lena, two and a half since she’s heard her or seen her or touched her and sometimes it's too much, makes Kara ache in a way that reminds her of when she first landed, of when she was scared and vulnerable and alone.

She goes to Alex’s room, knocks on the door, leans against it when Alex doesn’t reply right away.

She can hear Alex on the other side, quiet, breathing. Kara lifts her glasses to check if she’s already asleep.

Alex is on her bed, curled up. Alex is  _ crying _ , and Kara doesn’t think twice before she comes in, breaks the doorknob on the way.

“Alex,”

“Don’t,” Alex sniffs, wipes at her nose with her sleeve. “Damn it, Kara, it was locked for a reason.”

She walks towards Alex, puts the doorknob on her desk, stops before her bed and feels her gut curl when Alex shifts away from her.

“I’m sorry, about that,” she points to Alex’s desk, and Alex scoffs and turns her head. “Hey, talk to me.”

Alex faces her then, and Kara has to remind herself not to leap forward. Alex’s eyes are red raw, bloodshot and her hair has been pushed back so much Kara can almost see where Alex’s fingers have pulled through.

“I - no,” Alex’s bottom lip juts, quivers. “Just. Just go, Kara.”

“Okay, so don’t tell me what’s wrong, but,” Kara reaches out, slowly, takes Alex’s hand and waits for Alex to let herself be pulled up. “I wanna cheer you up.”

Alex laughs, shakes her head. “Good luck with that.”

Kara walks to Alex’s window, tugs Alex with her. She climbs onto the sill, steps back and hovers, hands out for Alex.

“C’mon, this is how I clear my mind.”

Alex looks backward, over her shoulder, before mumbling something as she takes Kara’s hands.

Kara doesn’t take them very far, just holds Alex up and flies upwards until Alex squeaks.

“Does this always work?”

Kara drifts, takes them slowly above the park near their house, over the lake.

“Sometimes,” she says, doesn’t mention the difference in speed, the way she makes herself hurt to stop hurting - it sounds stupid, redundant. She doesn't want to scare Alex.

Alex sighs, squeezes Kara’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Kara shrugs, ventures a smile at Alex. “I get that you don’t always wanna talk, same as I don’t always want to.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” and they both laugh at it, snort and forget, if only for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, just let me be there for you - and maybe let me fix it, if I can.”

Alex shakes her head, “I don’t think this one can be fixed.”

“Why not?”

“I - I had a fight. With Vicky,” Alex says, and Kara lets out an  _ ‘oh’ _ . “Yeah, it was big this time. We were both really mad. I said some things,  _ mean  _ things. I don’t blame her if she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Kara stops moving, tries to keep Alex grounded despite how high they are in the air.

“Don’t you want to be friends anymore?”

The wind hits them, strong and fast and Kara has to spin them so she gets hit with the force of it. Alex shivers, and Kara wishes she’d reminded Alex to bring her coat.

“I don’t, I don’t know,” Alex’s face goes dark, eyes pointed and her lips purse and Kara doesn’t know what it means, hasn’t ever seen it before. “Can we go home now? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Kara nods, “Of course.”

 

//

 

Kara takes them back, lets Alex through the window first.

She doesn’t even bother to think of going to her room, kneels down to pull the mattress she’s claimed from underneath Alex’s bed but Alex grabs her hand, pulls Kara into bed with her.

Alex cries into her shoulder and Kara doesn’t ask why, just holds her until she wears herself out, falls asleep tracing circles on Alex’s back.

She pretends not to notice the way Alex and Vicky avoid each other the next day at school, ignores how it feels so familiar.

 

* * *

Lena is very grateful to have Lex, to have a brother, someone who understands - or tries to when he cannot, someone who listens and doesn’t tell her to quieten down when she rambles about her ideas, who asks about the orphanage and tells her that he wishes they’d found her sooner.

Sometimes she wishes the same thing, until the muscle memory of Kara pummels into her chest, burrows there and doesn’t let go.

She tells Lex about Kara, when Lex comes down from college for the weekend. They’re tinkering together on a battery Lex claims  _ ‘will last for months, Lena, maybe years’ _ , when he hands her the wrench and asks her if she had any friends before becoming a Luthor.

It takes her a moment, to collect the meaning of what Kara had been, to decide if  _ friend _ was the operative term, if saying anything more than that would upset Lillian if she were to find out.

“One,” she answers, pulls her words together slowly because she’s learnt that, as a Luthor, execution is key. “Her name was Kara, she was adopted a few months before me.”

Lex peeks up from where his nose is nearly touching wires, “Did you grow up together, like, sisters?”

“God, no,” Lena shakes her head, nearly laughs. “She came when she was thirteen, we only spent a year together.”

“Seems pretty special for a year.”

Lena blinks, tries not to think about it, about how much of a difference Kara had made - on her routine, her world, herself.

“Don’t be too jealous,” she smirks, decides to play it this way, to save face. “You’re pretty special for a couple years.”

He smiles, pushes his hair out of his face. It sticks, grease holding it to his scalp, and Lena laughs this time, dodges when Lex throws a knut at her and he laughs too, pokes his tongue out at her and Lena thinks that maybe she doesn’t  _ need _ Kara.

Just wants her (endlessly).

 

* * *

Kara doesn't cry about Alex going to college until she’s actually in the car.

They’d gone out for brunch (where Kara had eaten nine waffles and Alex had to whisper-yell at her to  _ ‘slow down before you inhale the table!’ _ ), and when they walked along a strip of shops Alex made sure to buy Kara a baby blue shirt that Kara could wear anywhere.

Eliza had cooked a dinner for a family of ten, saying that it wasn’t Kara’s appetite that served as inspiration this time (although that certainly helped), that she wanted to make sure Alex remembered what a home cooked meal was like before she lived off stolen muffins from the cafeteria.

“I won’t  _ live _ off them, Mom,” Alex defends, sighs. “Just have them. Regularly. With coffee.”

Kara doesn't mention how she heard Alex mutter  _ “and maybe rum” _ under her breath, laughs until Alex pinches her underneath the table.

Alex lets Kara have the rest of her dessert, and Kara smushes an ugly kiss to her cheek before Alex can think of pushing her away, wiping at the wet spot with a grimace Kara knows she’s faking.

Alex hugs her parents first, doesn’t interrupt either of them when they rattle off about how she’s to stay safe, make friends and have fun, but to make sure she buckles down too because she’s smarter than she thinks.

Kara thinks that maybe if she were human, Alex’s hug could be considered crushing. Her fingers dig in so hard at Kara’s back that Kara thinks normal people would bruise, arms wound so tight around her that it could be tricky to breathe. Kara doesn’t realise how thankful she is, for Alex, always protective, to forget she’s indestructible.

Which is why, when Alex starts the engine of her car, Kara finally bawls.

Alex’s brows turn up, forehead crinkled, and Kara shakes her head when she sees Alex hesitate.

“I’m not leaving you,” Alex points at her when she says it, stern and strong and  _ Alex _ . “I’m coming back, okay. I’ll text you all the time, and you can call me every night if you need.”

Kara nods, wipes at her eyes, realises she’s wearing Alex’s letterman jacket and feels her eyes sting.

“I love you,” she tells Alex, because she didn’t get to tell her parents, her aunt,  _ Kal _ \- she didn’t get to tell  _ anyone _ .

“You too, dummy,” Alex offers Kara a laugh, which she returns - wet and embarrassing and messy. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Kara watches Alex’s car go, stands in the driveway after Eliza and Jeremiah go back inside.

 

//

 

She flies until her skin burns, until things blur together and she can’t see where she’s going. She flings back, victim to wind and force, when she collides with a sign.

Complete with a Kara shaped dent, she sees  _ ‘You have entered Star City, welcome!’ _

She clenches her jaw, squares herself to face the sign. She flies again, harder, fist out. She punches a hole through the sign, watches her hand and waits for blood, for a graze or a gash - Rao, she’d even take just a blemish.

She needs to see it hurt, to let it be real to her brain so maybe then she’d  _ stop _ .

She flies home, hand fine and knowing the sign will just be fixed tomorrow.

Nothing hurts as long as no one notices.

 

* * *

Lena rings Lex when she gets lonely, when Lillian has meetings or Lionel has to fly across the world for work.

Lena lets Lex talk about himself, about college and his friend Clark and how well they get along, and Lena lets herself feel warm at the idea of someone adoring Lex the way she does. He’s a genius, doesn’t deserve the mockery he receives (even if only minor).

He deserves Clark, deserves someone to challenge his ideas one minute and play chess with the next.

Lena doesn’t mention how Lillian is colder without Lex, how Lionel tucks away to his study more, how merlots are vanishing but not by her doing. She doesn’t let Lex know that Luthor means nothing without him.

 

* * *

Alex comes home for Thanksgiving, abundant with stories she stutters to get out, and Kara can't help but be a little jealous.

She doesnt mean to be, it's just that Alex is so  _ normal _ that it stings. Alex studies hard all week and then goes to a kegger to celebrate the fact that she passed a test, Alex has boys flirt with her and tell her she’s pretty, Alex has friends that share her interests and some that don’t but they all love each other - Alex gets to go to college without the worry of flying when the person she likes compliments her, gets to go without the fear that she’ll break something if she’s not concentrating, that she’ll overhear something ugly, see something she shouldn’t.

Simply, Alex gets to be Alex without worrying, Alex gets to be human.

Kara’s guilt eats at her until she tells Alex, as they look up at the now fading stick on stars, and Alex laughs before she realises Kara is serious.

“You know I still worry about stuff, right?”

Kara rolls over on the mattress, her legs too long for it now, feet sticking out from underneath the blanket so she curls them into her stomach.

“Like what?”

“So I don’t worry about revealing I’m an alien with powers that come from the sun,” Alex shrugs, wiggles until she’s on her side and facing Kara. “Doesn’t mean I don’t freak out every time I talk without thinking, or that I punch someone just because they treated my friend like shit for a hot second. Humans mess up too, Kara. Probably more than aliens if I’m honest.”

Kara chews her lip, thinks about it. 

“Humans didn’t blow up their planet.”

Alex’s hand finds hers in the dark, threads their fingers together. It makes Kara ache, in ways she both can and can’t explain. 

She chooses to ignore it, just lets Alex rub her thumb over her knuckles.

 

* * *

Lena meets Clark a year after Lex starts gushing about him, when she struts up to Lex at college orientation with a cheshire grin, letting him know he’s to be her guide for the day.

“You’re telling me that this was one-hundred-percent unintentional?”

Lena nods at Lex’s question, tilts her head.

“I guess they couldn’t resist the chance for a dynamic duo.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Lex laughs, runs his fingers over the side of his buzzcut. “Alright, let’s get going, then.”

Lena walks on her brother’s side, keeps up with his strides perfectly. They pass stalls, people handing out flyers - Lex somehow parts the student body like the red sea, and Lena wonders if it’s with intimidation or straight up fear.

Lex lists the things around him as if they possess no interest, voice low and unchanged and Lena struggles to see how Lex isn’t infatuated with this place - it’s possibilities.

“Lex, hey,” she hears Clark’s voice before she sees him, warm and sunny and somehow familiar. “Found yourself a friend, I see.”

Lena turns, holds her hand out for Clark to shake before Lex can even open his mouth.

“Friend is quite the stretch,” she says, shakes twice before dropping Clark’s hand, clasps her own in front of her. “I’m his sister, Lena.”

“Ah, so  _ you’re  _ Little Luthor,” Clark adjusts his glasses, smiles meekly. “Glad to see balding doesn’t run in the family.”

Lex scoffs, shakes his head. “Clark, you know she’s adopted.”

Clark’s grin is wry, “A sense of humour seems to only go one way, too.”

Lena laughs, covers her mouth with her hand before she can snort.

(Lillian taught her that it was ugly.

Lena doesn’t mention how she thought it was beautiful on Kara.)

 

//

 

Lex shows her to her room, away from the standard Girls’ Dormitories, because  _ ‘Mother was having none of that’ _ , and Lena thinks that  _ maybe _ an apartment complex available to only the affluent at their college is a bit much for her - but she lets it slide, thinks of dusty windowsills and cramped dining tables and roommates, it’s no  _ so _ bad to want luxury every now and then.

They’re alone in the elevator together when Lex turns to her, eyes squinted, “You don’t have a crush on Clark, right?”

She nearly chokes.

“Jesus, Lex, no,” she shakes her head, crinkles her nose. “Really, I mean it. Clark is - he’s handsome, but no.”

Lex shrugs, “Just checking. You were comfortable with him, that’s all.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” she points out, and he furrows his brows and nods. “Being comfortable doesn’t always mean romantic interest.”

“I know,” Lex holds a hand in the air, poised, twitches his fingers until he figures out what to say. “I just mean - hm. I’m not good with people, you aren’t either - we’re good at talking to them, fooling them, but we don’t  _ get _ them.”

She nods, hears the elevator ding and walks out. Lex matches her stride, continuing.

“Which is why it's significant when we can be comfortable with them, I suppose.” He presses on her shoulder when she turns in the wrong direction down the hallway, guides her to the left. “I’m comfortable with Clark, he’s reserved but I think that’s because he’s clumsy and he stutters sometimes - he’s a really bad liar, too, absolutely shocking.”

“So you think I’m comfortable around Clark because you are?”

They stop in front of what Lena assumes is her door, and Lex nods before reaching into his pocket for her keys.

“Luthors don’t trust easy. Maybe because I’d mentioned Clark already, but you seemed to ease around him.”

Lex hands her the keys, lets her unlock the door for herself.

“There was something about him that seemed familiar,” she turns the lock, looks at Lex before opening the door. “Maybe it was something like you, maybe it was something else.”

 

//

 

Lex shows her where the pots and pans are by cooking her dinner, overly dramatic and flourished movements as he provides commentary to what he thinks is finesse.

Lena laughs when he nearly drops the two chicken breasts he’d chopped up, saves the chopping board with his knee and there’s sweat on his brow and Lena can’t help but see how completely out of his element he is - he should be repairing something, inventing something, he needs a blowtorch, not a knife, but he’s  _ trying _ .

He’s trying for Lena, to make sure her first memory of her new house is one of a home instead, and Lena’s chest is so full because Lex has done this for her twice now, and each time he hadn’t needed to but he  _ wanted _ to.

He burns some of the chicken, puts it on his plate and gives Lena what’s safe, alongside potatoes Lena had to help him mash and vegetables he nearly steamed his hand off with.

He smiles up at her when she eats her first bite, quiet and observant and Lena has to admit the bits that aren’t charcoal are quite tasty, so she grins at him and he laughs at her full cheeks and bows his head.

Lex grimaces through each one of his bites, tells Lena it's  _ “not that bad, you should try it” _ , almost cackles at her when she does and spits it out before she can reach a napkin.

“I see old habits die hard.” He says it sweetly, adoringly, with twinkling eyes and Lena pokes her tongue out at him.

“Whatever. I had to  _ learn  _ to be a Luthor, remember?”

Lex smiles warmly at her, “And you’re doing wonderfully.”

Lena looks him over for cracks in the facade, for the same twitch in his mouth that Lillian gets when she tells Lena she loves her - but Lex just tilts his head, scrunches his nose so he can grin widely at her like a child, and Lena softens, laughs.

Lex flicks a green bean at her, calling her a softie, and Lena doesn’t even try to combat it.

The world tries to make people hard, and if Kara didn’t let it, neither will she.

 

* * *

[20:36 from: Kal]  _ I met Lex’s little sister today _

Read: 20:36

[20:37 from: Kal]  _ She’s really nice _

[20:37 from: Kal]  _ Really pretty too, has the whole dark hair bright eyes thing going on _

Read: 20:37

Kara thinks maybe she should feel bad for not replying, for holing up in her room and only leaving for school or food. She just - she doesn’t want to talk. Maybe to Alex, but Alex told Kara she was at a party tonight and Kara knows if she rang Alex would answer but - but that’s not fair, Alex needs to live without Kara, even for a little bit.

Kara just needs to learn how to live without Alex.

It's tricky, really tricky. Alex was just  _ there _ , and phone calls are great and she can still text her or Kal if she needs to talk, but she doesn’t have many friends at school (doesn’t let herself have many), and sometimes talking helps but Jeremiah told her to be careful about flying lately because people may or may not have seen that there was a  _ “human-ish shaped hole” _ in the Star City sign.

She sort of wanted to laugh when Jeremiah told her, thinks of humans and their conspiracy theories on how it could’ve happened, wondered if Teenage Alien Angst was on anyone’s list. But Jeremiah had a hard set to his face, the same kind Alex gets when people make fun of Kara in front of her, and she’d looked down at her feet and Jeremiah had sighed and hugged her.

Her desktop dings again, and she rolls her eyes before opening her messages.

[20:38 from: Kal]  _ Okay I see you’re in A Mood _

[20:38 from: Kal]  _ But _

[20:38 from: Kal]  _ I have a super interesting fact for you _

[20:38 from: Kal]  _ About the sister, I mean _

[20:38 from: Kal]  _ You ready? _

[20:41 from: Kal]  _ I’m gonna assume that’s a yes _

[20:42 from: Kal]  _ Her name is Lena. _

Kara nearly falls off her chair.

 

//

 

Alex answers after the second ring.

_ “Kara, hang on,” _ she hears music, low and humming and then it's quiet, there's no more yelling and she hears Alex sit on what she guesses is the front porch.  _ “Okay. Are you okay?” _

“I don’t know, I’m,” she takes her glasses off, rubs at the bridge of her nose. “Something happened.”

_ “Something alien?” _

“No, no, just,” she breathes, tries to focus on what’s around her instead of the way the city outside is starting to seep into her ears again. “Kal messaged me.”

_ “Is he okay?” _ Alex’s words are slurred in the slightest, and Kara wants to let her get back to the party, to let her have fun and maybe drink a little more but Alex keeps talking because Alex never stops  _ caring _ .  _ “Did he get in trouble? Did him and Lex fight or something?” _

“Rao, no, I can’t imagine that ever happening.”

_ “Kara, I love you, but my brain isn’t that great right now so you’re really gonna have to spell it out for me.” _

Kara lets herself giggle, just enough for Alex to mumble at her to shut up.

“Okay so, did you know Lex had a sister? Because I didn’t.”

_ “Me neither,” _ she hears a rustle, knows it's Alex shrugging and she smiles at the familiarity.  _ “Is Clark dating her or something?” _

“No, its. Look, I could be wrong, but Clark sort of described her and, um. She - her name-”

_ “What does her name have to do with this?” _ Alex huffs, Kara pictures her pouting. _ “I’m so confused.” _

“Her name is Lena,” Kara rushes it out, in one breath, feels her chest squeeze in a way she thought her body could forget. “It’s Lena.”

There's silence over the phone, Kara worries for a second that Alex might have hung up or dropped her phone but then there’s a low whistle that’s so very Alex and Kara sighs.

_ “Well, fuck.” _

 

* * *

Lex visits almost every night for dinner, enough for Lena to joke that Clark will be worried Lex is cheating on him. Lex doesn’t laugh, throws the closest pillow at her and she dodges, sometimes catches it in time to throw it back.

Lex doesn’t try to cook anymore, either pays for their takeout or lets Lena cook. Sadly, Lex doesn’t share the same affinity for  _ ‘brinner’ _ as her, and so takeout usually wins. 

Lena can sacrifice scrambled eggs or waffles for dinner if it means the night with Lex.

They eat in silence, the television screening reruns of  _ The Brady Bunch _ or  _ Jeopardy _ , and sometimes Lex lets Lena win, sometimes he throws his chopsticks at her to distract her from the question.

_ “This character wanted to phone home.” _

“Who is E.T?” Lena jumps from her seat to scream it, and both her and Lex groan when the oldest contestant can’t even fathom an answer in time.

“Honestly, how does someone  _ not _ know that.”

Lena switches the channel over, leaves it on Disney and grins when Lex grimaces.

“I know, right? Like, come on, I grew up without VHS and I still have a bloody clue.”

Lex laughs under his breath, turns his head towards the TV.

“Hannah Montana, huh?” He questions her with a raised brow, and Lena feels her neck flush. “Gotta say, you seem to have a type.”

She throws a potsticker at him, which he somehow manages to catch and eat, smile skewed round by it.

“Shut up.”

 

//

 

Lena’s half asleep on the couch when she feels Lex lay a blanket over her. It's the one from her linen closet, the one Lex uses when he stays too late to get back to his own apartment. She breathes it in, feels something close to home.

“Hey, Lena?”

She pushes her head further into the pillow, cracks one eye open to look at him.

“Hm?”

He’s cross legged in front of her, palms on his knees and worry etched on his face.

“Do you think E.T could be real?”

“As in, actual brown and wrinkly E.T with the light up finger?”

“No,” he laughs softly, clears his throat. “I just mean, you know, actual aliens. Do you think they could be real?”

She wakes up then, fully, tries not to let Lex see that she’s swallowed four year’s worth of fear.

“Maybe,” she breathes, steels herself. “I don’t see why not, the universe is pretty big, from what I hear.”

Lex wiggles closer, runs a hand over his hair.

“Do you think they could live on Earth?” He says it in a rush, like he’s held it in for God knows how long and Lena’s heart breaks (she’s not sure who for). “Like, could aliens be walking around and chilling with us and we don’t even know? How cool would that be? I wonder if they have anything we don’t, like they’re obviously not human so do you think they have powers or something?”

Lena stares at him, wide eyed and helpless. She could fold so easily, feels herself already doing it, crumbling in his hand at the chance to just let someone know.

“If they’re here, it’s got to mean they’re more advanced than us.” She says it slowly, tentatively, to share but not overshare is the goal. “Our atmosphere is probably different, too. They would have to be able to do things we can’t.”

Lex is practically vibrating, and Lena has only ever seen him this excited by his projects, by prospects of something grand, and she hopes this isn’t all a mistake.

“So you think they could fly or something? That would be cool, imagine being able to fly.”

She hums, doesn’t mention the times she would kiss Kara and they would hover, that Kara could lift her above the clouds with her arms or her words, that even if Kara  _ did  _ make them fly, Lena had always felt like she had anyway.

 

* * *

[12:57 to: Kal]  _ How’s she doing? _

[13:01 from: Kal]  _ Should I be offended that you’ve talked to me now more than ever? _

[13:03 to: Kal]  _ No, you’ve never been interesting until now _

[13:04 from: Kal]  _ Ouch _

[13:04 from: Kal]  _ I have superpowers how am I  _ **_not_ ** _ interesting _

Kara barely contains the snort threatening to burst, presses her lips together before replying with cautious fingers but still in superspeed - she  _ is _ in class after all.

[13:05 to: Kal]  _ The same ones as me dummy _

She looks up from her flip phone, lets the chain of the accessory dangle against her knee - a present Alex had given her, a small green martian from  _ Toy Story _ .

She takes down the notes on the blackboard, in blue ink because Jeremiah had told her it was easier to retain information that way. She has journals  _ filled _ with blue ink, of phrases and expressions she’d learned off Lena and Sophie, then from Alex and the kids around school she overhears.

The teacher turns to sit at her desk, directing them to follow the prompts from the workbook before burying her head in what Kara is almost certain is erotica.

She goes back to her phone, flips it open to see red ‘!!!’s that could only mean Kal in her inbox.

[13:06 from: Kal]  _ Fair call _

[13:06 from: Kal]  _ To answer your question though, she’s fine _

[13:07 from: Kal]  _ Why don't you ask her yourself? _

[13:07 from: Kal]  _ I could give you her number _

Kara feels like jumping out of her seat, like screaming until the windows shatter. Instead, she grips her pen so hard it cracks.

[13:15 to: Kal]  _ I don't think so _

[13:17 from: Kal]  _ You don't want to talk to her again? _

[13:18 to: Kal]  _ Of course I do but it's not safe _

[13:19 from: Kal]  _ You won't know unless you try _

Kara doesn’t reply, sees the text and feels her eyes get hot. 

Putting her phone down, she sees ink running down her other hand. She wipes at it, smudges it and she sighs, knowing she won’t be allowed to go to the bathroom to clean it.

Its sticky and there’s a boy on the desk next to hers that keeps looking at her hand, eyes flickering to it. Kara thinks maybe he’s wondering if she’s okay, but she knows better. Mostly she just wants to punch him.

She clenches her fists, shakes it out and stretches her fingers. Those aren't the kind of thoughts that are going to keep people safe, she can't be around anyone until she  _ knows _ they’ll be okay.

And if that means never seeing Lena again, well, Kara thinks it's better to hurt than to hurt Lena.

 

* * *

Lena thinks there’s a shift in Lex’s behaviour, something minute. But she  _ knows _ Lex, knows the way he clings to a fascination with talon-like fervor, knows the way he drowns himself in research and information until it's the only thing he can speak about.

It's not until Lex lets her put on the music station that it clicks, when he doesn't complain about her punk rock in favour of speaking with her.

He wants to talk about aliens again.

And, honestly, in another world, Lena would be fine to theorise with him, may even hold a candle to his level of interest. But Lena knows too much, knows enough to hurt, to cause damage and maybe even bring chaos. Her stomach rolls every time Lex is right about something, and of course Lena know Kara does not speak or act for the entire alien culture, but she’s a part of it, and each time Lex mentions a weakness or a power or a planet Lena feels her stomach curl.

He’s almost manic with the way he speaks, quickly and without many breaths and Lena has to try and process everything before she contributes.

“Do you think they could just be elevated humans?” He asks, picks at his dinner with the knife. “The atmosphere thing you said a while ago made sense. Maybe they get their powers from the moon or the sun or the wind, not magic but something close to it. Crazy science. Science we don’t have as humans.”

“I’m sure if they did they wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Lex smiles wryly, “I think they could have super speed, strength too, probably. But they’d have to hide it, wouldn’t they? They couldn’t let people know, that’s not safe.”

Lena’s eyes drag over the TV screen, a breaking news report interrupting the music video. There’s a building on fire, people rushing about and she sees the flash of sirens reflect on the reporter’s face.

“I think superpowers might be a tad hard to hide, Lex.”

Lex looks back at her from the TV, “Not if you think about it. They would have to hide in plain sight, wouldn’t they? Be unassuming. They’re probably the geekiest of people, the people who trip up so no one thinks anything of them.” His nose scrunches, a laugh breaking his demeanour. “I bet they wear cardigans.”

Lena laughs, lets herself be awash in the memory of tiny, unassuming Kara, in tattered clothes with a thick accent that holds her pen extra tight when she writes in English.

There’s a rush of noise from the TV, people screaming in panic and possibly delight and Lena watches as the camera pans to Superman, cape billowing as he uses his speed to fly everyone to the ground before putting out the fire with a lungfull of ice.

“See what I mean?” Lex asks, points to Superman. “He’s gotta be an alien, there’s no way he’s one-hundred-percent human.”

Lena nods, keeps watching. The camera zooms in, and Lena catches the sight of Superman’s face. There’s a set to his jaw, heroic but familiar and Lena cocks her head to the side as she watches him.

He responds to the reporter, shoulders set but there's a start in his voice, and the way he blinks before answering hits Lena like a freight train.

Superman is Clark, glasses and cardigans do not undo a hero.

The second revelation turns in Lena’s gut, sends shivers through her: Clark is Kara’s cousin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this fic may or may not be my new favourite form of suffering
> 
> Hmu @blxx-m on tumblr to scream (or ask questions) if you wanna bc i'm Always screaming about this


	3. lay me gently in the cold dark earth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Lena makes Clark take a fucking sip, babes.
> 
>  
> 
> (Slight TW for a scene with off the rails Alex, feel more than free to skip if it helps you guys stay safe <3)

Alex comes home early, two weeks into her final semester, Kara into her second. Kara, up in her old room to get a view of the driveway, hears Alex before she sees her. Her brakes screech, so loudly that Kara winces.

She rushes down faster than Eliza had taught her to, rapid alien steps that turn to leaps downstairs because she _knows_ Alex won't meet her halfway this time.

Alex gets to the second step of the porch before Kara is there, catching her, feeling Alex shake deep to her bones, wrought inside out.

“Please,” Alex says, and Kara doesn’t want her to finish. Doesn’t want _“tell me you’re lying”_ to tumble from Alex’s lips, because Kara won’t lie, _can’t_ lie to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says instead, it's blunt and full of sentiments she can't achieve. But it's enough to get Alex back onto her feet for Kara to carry her inside.

Eliza says nothing when Kara carries Alex all the way up the stairs to Alex’s room, doesn’t mention an abuse of power or how Kara should try harder to keep it hidden when she hovers in the slightest to make sure Alex can lay down without too harsh of a landing.

Alex curls into herself, reaches for Kara’s hand and holds tight enough to bruise human flesh. Kara squeezes, just a little, to let Alex know she’s there, that she’s not going anywhere.

That she would shoot into space to bring Alex the stars, if it meant she could forget for a little while.

 

//

 

The service is three days after Alex and Kara come home, Kara dresses in all black because that's what was expected, except made sure to wear a gold belt - it was Jeremiah’s favourite, Kara’s eyes heat up when the memory of his voice fills her ears, of Jeremiah holding Kara and Alex close to him, calling them his _‘golden girls’_ before kissing their temples.

Alex keeps her head hung, hair in her face. Kara holds her hand the whole time, lets Alex hang onto her as tightly as she wants, as tightly as she needs.

Eliza wears sunglasses indoors, and she doesn’t try to make jokes on the way home (she doesn’t say anything, if Kara is honest).

As far as the Danvers and outward influences had taught Kara, it's the best a funeral could have gone.

 

//

 

Later, at the wake, Clark asks Eliza why there was no body in the coffin.

Eliza tells Clark the body wasn't found, and Kara thinks maybe that sounds something like hope.

Alex lets her know much later on, when they’re on their third tub of ice cream, that it sounds like fool’s gold.

(Kara doesn’t ask what that phrase means, jots it down for a time when it won’t make Alex cry.)

 

* * *

 

Lex doesn’t visit as much after he graduates. In all honesty, Lena hadn’t expected any less; Lex is far too brilliant to be stuck in the nostalgia of their college, too enthralled by his ideas to stay in one place.

His face is hidden by a bouquet of flowers when Lena opens her door, and she can barely make out the top of his shining head before he shoves them in her face, laughing when she sneezes and helping himself to the fridge.

“It's a very special day, Lena,” he tells her, pulls out a carton of eggs and a stick of butter. “I have great news, possibly the greatest since that time Father dyed his beard.”

Lena eyes off the ingredients, plucks a whisk from a drawer nearby and bumps Lex to the side with her hip.

“It must be good if you’re about to bomb a batch of pancakes.”

He laughs low in his throat, jumps onto the stool across the bench from her, leans his head in his hands.

“In my defense, they may have been good if you let me try.”

“No chance I’m letting you ruin another frying pan,” she dusts flour off her fingers when she places the packet on the bench, lines up the sieve and the eggs. “What’s this news anyway?”

He bounces in his seat, hands gripping at air as he smiles. Lena thinks that if Lex still had hair, it might stick up with the static he’s producing.

“I was given my research grant.”

Lena cracks the first egg into her hand.

 

* * *

 

Alex isn’t Alex after Jeremiah.

She’s distant, intentionally keeping herself at arm’s length from everyone who isn’t Kara (sometimes even Kara). She goes out, doesn’t come back until after dawn or until Kara tracks her down by her heartbeat - Kara doesn’t ask what she’s been drinking, just knows that the way Alex holds her pinky means she can’t tell Eliza.

 

//

 

She gets into a fight, a big one. One that Kara can hear but doesn’t know Alex is involved in until her cell is ringing - Alex calls her from a payphone with a tight throat and Kara flies there without a second thought.

She traces Alex’s heartbeat, finds her tucked between a dumpster and a small tower of bread crates. She shakes, flinches away from Kara until her eyes focus on her, soften.

She cries, holds onto Kara and stains her shirt, her fingernails leave blood streaks and Kara questions her until Alex promises that it's not her blood.

She sees it then, when she looks down at Alex, with her ponytail behind her neck - she sees the bruises. Light, beige ones on her neck and collarbone, purple thumbprints on her biceps, red-raw circles around her wrists.

Kara feels her bottom lip wobble, scoops Alex into her arms and bounds into the air.

They’re halfway home before Alex sniffs, tired out, mumbles an apology into Kara’s shoulder.

“Please tell me this is it,” Kara shakes her head, clears her throat. “Please tell me that you’re done.”

Alex nods against her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just,” she sighs, feels it crack in her ribs as her eyes well up. “Just _be Alex_ again, please? It’s not - _we’re not_ the same without you.”

Kara slows down as they reach Alex’s window, Alex climbing in first, not letting go of Kara’s hand the whole time.

“It hasn’t been the same since Dad.”

“I know,” Kara nods, sets her jaw. “But you going off the rails isn’t going to bring him back, and leaving us isn’t going to make anyone happier.”

Alex lies on her bed with a _thump_ , looks up at her roof. Kara walks across to switch the lights off, give Alex the stars.

“I thought it would take my mind off it,” Alex starts, breathes in shakily. “I thought if maybe I was numb then it would all go away. But Mom still makes me breakfast when I’m hungover, and you - you don’t stop _trying_ and you’re so _good_ . Why are you still so good? How can you be? You could crumble the Earth between your hands and you _don’t_.”

Kara shrugs, feels Alex tug so she lies beside her, runs her thumb along her knuckles.

“I’m not good, I’m just,” she struggles for the word, bites the inside of her cheek. “I can’t let anyone else down.”

Kara is nearly asleep before she hears Alex, soft and low and whispered into the dead of night,

“You couldn’t ever let me down.”

 

* * *

 

Patterns always had come easily to Lena, even before being groomed as a Luthor. There’s a certain wonder to how things tick, the way in which they do so, how each piece of the puzzle falls in line to create something tangible.

It starts small, a root in the dirt of the earth. Lex closes off, for hours at a time, to work on his research. He’ll read texts but not reply, ignore calls, ultimately, he’ll just turn off his phone in favour of the next breakthrough.

Romanticising patterns is the easiest way for Lena to convince herself that Lex will be okay.

Lena wants to be proud of him, tries _so hard_ to believe there’s some good in what he’s doing.

But the way that Lex talks of aliens, with an elated but elitist lilt in his voice - talks of looking them over, of taking blood, of testing their limits.

It turns in Lena’s stomach, the idea of him strapping an alien to a chair (of strapping Clark or _Kara_ ) and taking their blood, of imprisoning them in a room of their weakness to test their abilities, of the fact that maybe she could have stopped this, whatever _this_ is, if she’d only noticed the pattern earlier.

Lena finds out from the gossip mill that Lex barely talks to Clark anymore, rumours circulating of a fight, of a girl coming between them - Lena hears it all but never from Clark or Lex.

 

//

 

The root turns to a trunk when Lena finds Lex fixating on Superman, drives across town to his research facility, barges past security with mentions of her name.

She finds Lex leaning over newspapers, accounts from the _Daily Planet_ of Superman’s physiology, his powers, and Lena feels dread pool in her blood like lead.

Lena tries to understand him - she loves her brother _so much_ that she aches with the thought of losing him to his own mind - tries to understand _why_ this is such a raging fire for Lex.

“Don't you see, Lena?” He nearly screams it. Behind him, a corkboard wall of photos, articles, eyewitness accounts of aliens other than Superman. “They’re _everywhere_. Earth is crawling with them, and - if they’re all as powerful as Superman, then what? We’re toast, Earth as we know it will be enslaved to them.”

She breathes, deep and _tired_ and takes a few steps towards him.

“If Superman, or even the other aliens, if they wanted to hurt us, wouldn’t they have by now?”

“That’s just it,” he blinks at her, like she’s missing the point. “They want our trust first. Who’s to say there isn’t a Super _girl_ out there? That she isn’t waiting in the wings, ready to team up with her family and take over?”

“Lex, please,”

“No,” Lex holds a hand up, silences her. He stands, stretches and cricks his neck. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what _I_ know, Lena. I’ve talked to Mother, you know, she told me that my ideas are brilliant, that _I’m_ brilliant.”

Lena wants to step forward, wants to grab Lex by the shoulders and shake him until he sees sense, but she flinches away when he barely moves.

“Lex,”

“You used to think that. Do you remember? You thought the world of me.” He takes a long breath, stands from behind his desk, walks around to perch on the edge of it, turns his head to Lena. “You even helped me theorise, you were the one who assured me of their powers - that I wasn’t crazy to think of it. It was only a year ago, Lena. In that time, I have nearly enough research to go corporate with this, to create my designs to their full potential. And you, you’re stagnant.”

She feels a spark in her chest, surging her forward until she stand a foot away from her brother.

“I am _not_ stagnant.”

“But you are. Look at you,” he chuckles, the warm laugh of Lex Luthor that Lena had known morphing into something else. Something ugly, something _deranged_. “You come here, nostalgic for something you’ll never divulge, and you try to tell me my ideas have no merit. Even if that’s not your intention, that’s what’s happening. You don’t move forward, not without me at least - and now that we’re seemingly headed in different directions, well, you don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

Lena feels her neck flush, shame and white-hot anger blooming through her spine. She feels it with the force of the sun, solar flares shooting throughout her body until she swears she sees red.

“You’re right, Lex, I _thought_ the world of you.” She looks down, clenches her fists until her nails bite into her palms, when she registers the pain, she looks back up. “But you are not who you were. You have changed, Lex, into something I can’t even begin to describe. Finish your research, buy your way into owning a company with Father’s inheritance, hunt down innocent aliens until they rage war against you. _Fine_ , do it.”

Lex nods, “I plan to.”

Lena’s throat bobs, swallows the thick lump of something like betrayal, something like disappointment.

“Just,” she sighs, readies herself to turn on her heel. “Don’t come to me when this all goes to shit, and you have nothing left but your prejudices.”

With that, she walks, away from Lex’s laughter, from the humming of his machinery.

Lena walks out of the building, floored with wondering how she could have missed her brother when he was in the same room.

 

* * *

 

[18:43 from: Kal] _Lay low_

[18:44 to: Kal] _Literally what I’ve been taught to do_

[18:44 to: Kal] _But why?_

[18:45 from: Kal] _I need you to be safe_

[18:45 from: Kal] _Something big is going to happen soon, and I can’t have you there_

[18:46 to: Kal] _Are you okay?_

[18:47 from: Kal] _I am right now_

[18:47 from: Kal] _But don’t come looking for me_

[18:48 from: Kal] _And especially don't try to be a hero_

 

* * *

 

Lex calls Lena, when she’s perched at her dining table, extension cord running by her feet into the kitchen to charge her laptop as she works. Surrounded by windows, Lena finds an easing pressure in her chest, a kind of reassurance that if Lex were to attack (the aliens or _her_ ), that it would all be in plain sight.

But Lex isn’t stupid, and Lena should have known better.

Her phone rings, an unknown number and it makes the pressure lifts, turns to a weight that drops to her gut, tendrils of guilt and fear wrapping around it and dragging it into her.

“Hello, Lex.”

 _“Lena,”_ Lex’s voice is rougher now, the past year and a half ripping the softness from him. _“I wanted to thank you in person, but this will have to do.”_

“Thank me?” She uncrosses her legs, calves tensing as she readies herself to stand. She does, and with unsteady feet, makes her way to the window that takes up the majority of the wall, the one that overlooks the city. “For what?”

 _“I visited Mother at the estate today - she’d felt lonesome with Father away for so many weeks, you see.”_ She hears ruffling, Lex clearing his throat and the distant _clack_ of her mother’s heels. _“We were reminiscing, and she brought out childhood keepsakes. Remember the test tube we managed to burn a hole through? She left it where it was, Mother kept our rooms the exact way we left them. Isn’t that sweet of her?”_

She holds her breath, “What did you find, Lex?”

 _“I found what you’d never tell,”_ there’s a crisp sound, something like opened paper. And then it hits Lena, a tonne of bricks collapsing in the column of her throat. _“I can’t believe Mother took these from you. It’s no wonder you were sad about your friend, you couldn’t write back without a return address, could you?”_

Lena’s legs wobble, and she wants so easily to give in, to collapse, to let the city see the vulnerability grip at her like vines. But she stays put, levels her chin and sets her jaw. Even if Lex can’t see her, she can see her reflection. It’s enough, to fake strong until she looks it.

“Don’t you even _think_ of hurting her.”

 _“It’s a good idea, but no,”_ Lex laughs under his breath and Lena lets out a breath, free hand balling into a fist. _“I won’t touch your little girlfriend, not for a while. My main focus is Superman, and, funnily enough, tiny awkward Kara Danvers has led me right to him.”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

_“You’re a smart girl, Lena, I know you would have figured it out by now. But it's fine, you want to protect them - I get it. I’ve watched Kara for a while now, had my people keep an eye on her. She’s a terrible liar, just like her cousin, but she doesn’t want to play superheroes. So she’s safe, for now.”_

Lena purses her lips, begins pacing. “She wouldn’t have helped you.”

 _“You’re right. But, her letters are very interesting, she seemed to like you very much - maybe even love you, isn’t that precious.”_ She hears him opening a letter, can practically see his smile over the phone and she bites her tongue so hard she tastes copper. _“You’re her Kryptonite, Lena. Did you read that one? Or did Mother manage to put an end to this before you knew? How silly of me, you probably don’t even know what Kryptonite is.”_

She doesn’t correct him, swallows her pride to keep Kara safe.

“Enlighten me.”

 _“I’m sure you know about her planet, otherwise she wouldn’t be telling you half the things she did. Very honest, this child.”_ She hums, Lex rumples the paper, teases Lena with the fact he knows as much (if not more) about Kara, about Krypton. _“Kryptonite is a mineral found on that dead planet of theirs, it’s what kept them powerless. Kara says her planet imploded, which would explain how my company managed to come across some of its debris while out of Earth’s atmosphere. You see, Lena, on Earth, Kryptonite not only leaves Kara powerless, it makes her_ weaker _. It’s cute, really, that you made an alien feel weak.”_

Lena aches, deep in her bones. Aches for Kara, for her to be able to tell Lena in brash, teenage honesty, scribbled in the dark with a blooming heart.

She aches for herself, to not know until now, to have this letter ripped from her, to leave her bitter and cynical and yearning for someone who has probably forgotten all about her. Kara is in danger because Lena had let her love her, know her, had turned a blind eye when her mother said Kara’s letters were lost in the move.

It washes over Lena, fresh and rumbling waves to drown in all over again.

“You said she’d be safe.”

_“She will be, so long as she doesn’t interrupt her cousin and I.”_

“Superman is the Man of Steel,” Lena says it defiantly, hopes the anxiety doesn't creep into her voice. “And you, Lex, you are _nothing_ more than a brat with a god complex.”

Lex barks a laugh, and Lena hears him scrunch the letter in his fist, flinches.

_“Look out for me, sister, I’ll be on the news real soon.”_

The line goes dead, and Lena tries to calm her boiling blood, the inferno that rages in her chest. She brings a hand to her face, drags it down the length of her skin, nails scratching at the juncture of her jaw and neck.

Fuck it.

She screams - a harsh, furious scream. It tears through her, her muscles pounding and she pitches her phone, hears it dent the pillar beside the archway leading to the lounge, the crunch of glass shattering.

She knows she has to clean it up, dip into her inheritance for a new one. Right now though, she is too weak, too tired and sour and _angry_ to even think of it.

She finally lets her knees give out, shaking legs dropping to the floor and she folds in on herself. Her nails bite at the skin of her forearms, forehead leant on them as her legs bend at the knees. She jerks her jaw shut, feels her eyes well up and she’s done being strong, done wearing a mask, done being a Luthor.

Her teeth letting go of her bottom lip, she thinks of her sixteen year old self, of how she came to know a fragile girl that turned to be of stone and steel, of how she could float above clouds with arms wrapped around her, of how she could be so _stupid_ to let it go.

Lena cries for the things she could have had, for what Lex could have been, what Kara will be without her.

Lena cries for Clark, a man(?) who will be murdered by her brother for trying to help, a man with a cousin who bears the weight of a dead world on her shoulders. Lena cries for them, because they are the last of their kind, and how are they to pass it on if they’re killed?

Lena cries because if Clark is murdered and Kara keeps herself a secret, Krypton dies with herself and the Danvers, Krypton dies with Lex ripping it to corrupted pieces.

 

* * *

 

Kal hasn’t texted her for nearly two weeks, and Kara’s gut turns inside out with worry.

Kal has always told her to hide in the shadows, to blend with humans. Not because he wouldn’t love to have his little (big?) cousin be beside him in his heroics, but because he wants her safe, because he knows the dangers of exposing loved ones to the secret of Krypton.

But this is different, he had warned her to not be a hero. Not to keep quiet, not to hide away, but to not expose herself.

Somehow it's different, like he's not just protecting civilians anymore.

 

//

 

She finds out when Alex calls her cell, loud and piercing and it interrupts Kara’s studying for the year’s last set of tests. She grips her nose between her thumb and forefinger, swipes across the screen to answer.

“Alex-”

_“Kara, go downstairs. Now.”_

“What?” She stands from her desk, walks towards the door.

 _“It's Clark,”_ Alex says it rushed, scared, a whisper. _“He’s being attacked.”_

Kara starts to speed up, stomach churning, trying to find reason, logic. “He gets attacked every week.”

 _“Not like this, Kara, he,”_ she hears Alex take a breath, hears her heart speed up as she speaks. _“Its Lex. He has Kryptonite, Kara, he’s using it on Clark. It’s not looking good.”_

Kara runs then, so fast she’s a blur to the girls on her floor. She slows to reach the common room, opens the door and readies herself to steal the remote off someone, but all the girls are gathered around, perched on couches and armchairs, some on the floor.

They’re all watching the news, eyes rapt on the report.

She stays in the doorway, sees Kal on the ground, Lex Luthor meters away, the Kryptonite green and glowing sickly in his hands.

“I need to help him.”

 _“Kara, no.”_ Alex’s voice is hard, and Kara knows she’s right, that Kal had told her to lay low and not play heroes. But this is her cousin, this is the only tie to Krypton she has left, she can’t just let it slip away. _“I know, okay, I know you want to help. But you can’t, Kara. You’ll end up just the same as Clark, maybe even worse, if you get anywhere near Lex right now.”_

She edges towards the back of the common room, into the kitchenette, leans against the fridge with narrowed eyes still on the TV.

“I can’t just sit here and watch him die, either, Alex.”

 _“You’re not going to.”_ Kara grits her teeth, nods even though Alex can’t see. _“Look, Dad, he - he worked for some people. Before he died, there were people who protected or arrested aliens. He worked for them, Clark had helped them before. Dad helped Clark a couple of times, and so did his friend Hank.”_

“What the hell is _Hank_ able to do that Kal can’t?”

_“Hank won’t feel the effects of Kryptonite, and the other agents won't either. They can get Lex, Kara, you just need to give them time.”_

She feels her eyes heat up, her throat tight. She swallows, tries not to grip her phone too hard.

“How can I be sure they’ll even get there in time?”

 _“Just watch, Kara, please. Don’t go out there.”_ Alex is softer now, and Kara feels some of the tension ebb away. _“I can come and get you if you need, you can watch it at my place.”_

“Don’t be silly,” Kara breathes once, twice, trains her ears onto the report. Kal has stood back up, but he’s not getting very far. “National City is too far from here, by the time you get me it could be over. I could -”

 _“It's too risky to fly.”_ Alex finishes for her, and Kara nods again. _“I can stay on the phone the whole time, or you can text me or skype me while you watch.”_

Kara sees Kal, sees him struggle to get into the air, watches with a grimace as gravity throws him back down into the pavement. He’s human, now, maybe not even that - weaker, more Clark than Kal and Kara _seethes_ at the thought of it, of Lex betraying him like this for some twisted ideology.

“Skype is fine, I’ll stream it from my dorm.”

_“Okay, don’t break anything along the way.”_

She sees Kal land a punch to Lex’s jaw, it doesn’t send him reeling but it looks like it hurts.

Good.

 

* * *

 

Lex is caught, swarmed by agents in all black with guns bigger than dinner plates and Lena lets out a sigh of relief when Superman’s cousin is nowhere to be seen in Metropolis.

There are articles and reports everywhere about Lex within hours, and Lena knows after reading the very first one that Luthor is going to be a name for the ages, for all the reasons she never wanted it to be.

Her mother protests Lex’s innocence, claims Superman’s power extends to manipulation and that one day he will corrupt the Earth to its very core. In some articles, Lex is branded a hero, though those are greatly outweighed by those who see him for what Lena knows in the deepest pits of her heart and soul: Lex Luthor is an evil, maniacal madman, hellbent on the experimentation and execution of aliens.

It pains her, to some degree, to think that she may have been able to stop this, to deter Lex. Maybe if she had never humoured him years ago, if she had told him that aliens were of stories and the human prayer to not be alone in the universe.

But it's too late, Lex’s trial will be in a week, and Lena is to provide witness, evidence, and testimony.

Her mother had already emailed her a list of things she is to say, from an encrypted file; she is to tell the court that Lex is no monster, that he had fallen prey to the fascination of aliens, only to have found out their true intentions with their Earth.

Lena loved her brother with all her heart, to testify for him should be easy.

But she thinks of Clark, of his skewed glasses and waved hair and eyes that are _so much_ like Kara’s that she can barely look at him, and she thinks maybe it isn’t that easy at all.

 

* * *

 

[23:12 from: Clark Kent] _Thank you for letting me do that alone_

[23:17 sent to: Clark Kent] _You’re welcome_

[23:17 sent to: Clark Kent] _But if it ever happens again you can bet I’m grabbing the nearest towel to wear as a cape and saving your butt_

[23:18 from: Clark Kent] _I would love nothing less_

[23:19 sent to: Clark Kent] _Are you going to the trial?_

[23:20 from: Clark Kent] _I have to_

[23:20 from: Clark Kent] _I’m reporting on it. It's my first solo article_

[23:21 sent to: Clark Kent] _That’s so cool!!! <3 :D :D _

[23:21 sent to: Clark Kent] _Tell me how it goes. Firsthand, no articles_

[23:22 from: Clark Kent] _I will. Promise_

[23:22 from: Clark Kent] _Want me to telling you what Lena’s wearing too? ;)_

_Read 23:23_

_Kara Danvers is typing…_

_Kara Danvers has gone offline._

 

* * *

 

Lena wakes to the sound of knocking against her bedroom balcony, three fervent but controlled taps and she rolls over to rub at her eyes. Fumbling for the switch, she turns on the lamp, hits her elbow on the bedside table and hisses before her eyes adjust.

Clark is hovering, a metre or so from the railing, and Lena realises he must have knocked and flown backwards - an attempt to make this just the slightest bit less creepy.

She threads her fingers through her ponytail, yawns as she pulls it up to redo it. Her eyes are wet with sleep and she nearly stumbles through the glass door before opening it, slowly walking out.

The cool night air bites at her calves, and she shivers. She looks at Clark, levels her chin, and he nods at her in lieu of a greeting.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says, waits for her to turn on her heel, an invitation for him to fly closer. “Lex, he - I’m sorry, Lena.”

She keeps her back to him, knows if she turns she’s going to see his lips curl the same as Kara’s, the dent in his forehead and the crease in his nose the exact same and she - she can’t. Not now.

“You’re sorry?” She grits her teeth, crosses her arms. “For what, Clark? For being my brother’s friend while he drove himself crazy over your alter ego? For writing an article on him, me - my family? For turning us all into monsters when Lex had lost his mind?”

“Lena, I,” she sees his reflection, watches him shake his head. “You need to understand.”

“I need to understand,” she repeats, turns to him this time, stares at his boots, doesn’t let her eyes stray. “I don't think so. _You_ need to understand, Clark. Lex is my _brother_ , he was the only family I had when I left, he taught me and joked with me. Do you know what it's like to try and unlearn that? To look at the man you admired and deny yourself that? To betray your own mother - a woman who took you in when she didn't need to, who could have let you rot in a foster home - to look her in the eye as you sit behind that microphone and do exactly as she told you not to?”

She chances a look at Clark, turns and catches a glimpse of him looking like he’s been slapped. He brings his lips together, slumps his shoulders and it's odd - a hero to look defeated, a hero to look human even as he stands beyond the reaches of gravity.

“I don’t know what that’s like,” he admits, floats close enough to rest his hands on the railing. She’s facing him now, and they just _stare_ at each other, trying to decipher everything that goes unsaid, the lines that must be read between. “But Lex was my friend, and he… I couldn’t stop this. You couldn’t stop this. But you need to know, that this isn’t my fault, this isn’t _your_ fault.”

She feels the press of her fingers on her biceps, lets the air sting as she presses her nails further. Breathing, she sees Clark’s cape float behind him, imagines it on Kara - if she had gotten here first, if she became justice incarnate. She wouldn’t have known Kara, the warmth of her skin or the radiance of her smile, wonders if she would have cared if Lex succeeded in this alternate world, if she would feel sympathy for the woman struck down by the man who took her under his wing.

It stirs like tar in her stomach, tastes bitter in her mouth. She shakes her head, furrows her brow to ask Clark,

“How is it not my fault?” She paces, three steps before continuing. “I’m the one who dropped the alien ball, I’m the one whose letters he found. If Kara had kept away from me, if I’d have just told him to drop it, to shut up and move on-”

“Lena,” Clark reaches out across the railing, gently tugs her to face him. He’s as warm as Kara, as strong and firm as her, but it’s _different._ “Lex would have done this, no matter the actions of you, Kara, or myself. It was always going to happen, no matter who the aliens were. His desires are self serving, we were both foolish to trust him for as long as we did.”

“He’s my _brother_ , Clark.”

And she knows how childish it sounds, how dumb it sounds. But Lena had worshipped this remarkable man, had watched him grow from intelligent to genius, had thought of him as innovative and passionate and idolised him for it.

Lex was there to tease her about her crushes, to help her with her homework, to show her around campus. She had clipped his hair for him when he got self-conscious about the very real possibility early balding, had scribbled inventions on his whiteboard with him whenever their minds went too fast to talk, had cooked for him and played board games when they were both to melancholy to speak.

Lex was her brother, her family. He filled the void for Lena, crept between the gaps of her ribs in a way only Kara had.

And maybe Clark can’t understand that, maybe he won’t, but it’s all Lena has to say.

Clark stays behind the railing but lets go of her arm, apologises if he hurt her and resigns himself to stay behind the metal - a caged animal, powerful but restrained.

“Do you really believe what Lex said about me?”

She wants to say no, feels the waver in Clark’s voice like maybe he believes it himself sometimes. But the fierce loyalty to Lex that she wishes would go away rears its head, the years of what it means to be a Luthor fogging her mind as she lowers her chin.

“I don't know.”

Clark sighs, in a way that makes Lena think he understands this loyalty, this cross to bear, a legacy that shouldn’t go on but must.

“Would you believe it if he had said it about Kara?”

Her jaw clenches, lips pursed.

“You two are not the same.”

“What’s so different?”

She doesn’t know where to begin. Clark is hard in all the places that Kara is soft, Kara’s eyes blaze with the fire in her heart and Clark’s are steeled, Kara reminds her of the sun - always giving, shining, a comfort on her world - where Clark is boiled and pent up with something she cannot explain.

It runs too deep, her answer wouldn’t help Clark understand.

“She’s not like you,” is all she can say.

“Right, because I use my powers. Because I hurt your brother. He came after me first, Lena, don’t forget that.” He backs up, folds his arms and squares his shoulders. “He deserved everything that happened.”

Lena nearly launches herself off the balcony, molten rage burning her blood, runs through her until she is a pendulum of indignance.

“You know what, Clark? Fuck you.” She spits, feels her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. “I know he deserves everything that he’s got coming, but _you_ \- you do not get to stand there and act as if I don’t. You don’t get to play hero when I know he fucked you over as much as anyone else, you don’t get to fly over to my balcony and fake sympathy when you just want to make sure someone feels as betrayed as you do.”

“Lena, I-”

“No, Clark, you don’t get to do this. And you certainly don’t get to bring up Kara, not when I know damn well you don’t know a thing of what happened.” The railing is ice cold underneath her fingers, knuckles turning white with how hard she clenches. “She was everything I had when I was younger, and you ripped her away - you did that, because you made her feel like she couldn’t control herself around humans. You tore an innocent and pure girl from everything she had learned here, and you made her feel _guilty_ for who she was. I don’t care if your intentions were noble, you _hurt_ her - and no matter how much the Danvers love her and she loves the Danvers, you didn’t even let her _try_ to love herself.”

Clark’s face sinks then, a solemn fold between his brows. Maybe he hadn’t known that this was what he’d done, maybe he’d lived in righteous bliss until it blinded him, but heaven and hell be damned if Lena isn’t going to make sure he’s glaringly aware of it now.

“You may be Superman, Clark, but you are no man to me,” she shakes her head, bites her lip. “You are a naive boy, who cannot see the grey between black and white. I admire you for your service to us as a hero, but you’re going to need more than powers to be super. You have to realise you’re not immune to human whims and fancies, Clark, Lord knows you’ve been here long enough to fall privy. Lex is villainous, evil, yes - but don’t come to my balcony in the dead of night and say he couldn’t have been saved. His insanity could have been stopped, and we failed him.”

Clark gapes at her, mouth opening and closing, his toes moving inside of his right boot as he searches for something to say.

“You still love your brother,” he starts, and they nod at each other. “I still love Lex, too. But I won’t pretend this wasn’t inevitable. I keep thinking - what if it was Kara? What if he took his crosshairs off me and put them on her instead? I was scared, Lena. That’s why I took her away, because she _needed_ to learn how to protect people, in case something happened to me and I couldn’t anymore. She’s not ready to be a hero, not yet. But maybe someday.”

“She is not your prodigy.” She holds tighter to the balcony, back flexing. “Spin it any way you want, but Kara deserves to make her own choices, be her own person.”

“She has always made the right ones before.”

Lena tastes copper, settling in the muscle of her cheek. She lets go of the railing, turns her nose up as she stalks towards her bedroom.

“I think you should go,” she’s had enough, her eyes droop despite the adrenaline. “Now.”

She hears Clark’s cape whip in the wind, pushes loose hairs from her eyes.

Clark looks at her through his reflection and Lena glares back, he hovers back a few inches, sighing.

“She misses you, you know.” He says, and Lena feels her heart stop in her chest. “Like, a lot.”

He flies away, a blur in the moonlight, and Lena slams the balcony door shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

Kara still has her graduation gown on, Alex having stolen her cap as soon as they were in the car together, and it itches, the blue silk sticking at her collar and tickling at her ankles as she sits. But Alex had insisted there was no time to change, that they needed to celebrate, even if that meant having to hitch a ride back home with Eliza first.

Every time Alex turns to face her, she’s posing, lips puckered as eyes narrowed until the tassel swings to hit her in the nose. Kara laughs each time because Alex is still caught by surprise, and it bubbles up in Kara, affection swelling for her sister.

“So,” Alex turns the cap this time, leaving the tassel to dangle at her spine. “What do you want to do?”

Kara shrugs, not having really celebrating anything before. Sure, birthdays and Thanksgiving but this is different, she knows that. Its human custom to do something big after you graduate, something daring and so very _adult_ that Kara doesn't even know where to begin.

“I’m happy to do whatever you wanna do.”

Alex smiles at her, feline and dangerous before she makes sure Eliza is pretending not to pay attention to them.

“I’m gonna take you out on my bike,” Alex thinks aloud, taps her chin. “What if we drove out, like, way out? I could take you somewhere that you could fly without, you know, being worried.”

Eliza looks at them through the rear view mirror, and Kara blanches under her gaze.

“I don’t know,” she says, but it’s not convincing, she knows Alex can see the excitement in her eyes and Eliza can see the way she’s almost vibrating under her seatbelt.

“Awesome,” Alex claps her hands, rubs them together. “Knew that spare helmet was a good investment.”

 

//

 

Alex drives recklessly, and Kara isn’t sure if that’s because Alex loves the thrill of being close to thrown to the ground, or if she simply wouldn’t care if she got hurt anymore. Kara’s arms are wound tight around her sister, face pressed into the space between Alex’s shoulders.

Alex teases her later, because _“Kara you fly at least three times faster than my bike can go, why are you scared?”_

Kara doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s because there’s nothing in the sky to fear, that crash landings are somehow always worse than the actual falling.

 

//

 

Alex takes Kara to a stretch of land, apparently once an airport, abandoned after criminal activity. Kara doesn’t ask what kind of activity, doesn’t even bother to ask how Alex knows because she tells Kara it all with a shrug and childlike grin.

Kara hands her helmet to Alex, gently and slowly. Alex reminds her that Kara can throw things now, to be more confident, but Kara is going to fly for the first time in four years and she’s not sure how to even begin to explain the nerves as they eat away at her.

Alex hangs the helmets on a handlebar each, takes Kara by the hand and starts walking.

“We can see the sky first, from human perspective.” She says, and Kara lets out a breath, squeezing Alex’s hand. “You can tell me all about the nitty gritty of college.”

Kara rolls her eyes, “You heard all about it the whole time I was there.”

“True, but it was always updates and classes and missing me,” she says that last part with a wink, sits on the ground and Kara follows, bumps their shoulders together. “Like I said, nitty gritty.”

Kara wrinkles her nose, “Like, dirty?”

Alex throws her hands up. “Whoa, um, I meant the figurative nitty gritty. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Kara nods, blushes. “Sorry. So, like, gossip, scandal, that sort of thing?”

“I can give you an example if you want?” She asks, Kara dips her head to smile gratefully. “Okay, so, hmm. Oh, okay, got one. In my third year, there was this party - huge, Kara, two sororities held a joint pre-break party, it was _wild_. Anyway, there’s this nerdy guy, right? Glasses, pastel button ups, the works.”

“Hey!” Kara pushes Alex, whose brows come together before she sees Kara’s outfit.

“No offense,” she stifles a laugh. “So everyone sees him and the two most popular guys on the football team decide to get him drunk, and I mean _hammered_. Poor guy doesn’t know left from right for the first hour that he’s drinking, he’s that bad. Turns out, their plan to humiliate this guy backfired, because he hooked up with both their girlfriends, as well as two other girls from the party. Nerd boy had more game for a night than the whole football team.”

Kara laughs, leans back.

Alex prods her, waits for her laughs to die down before saying something.

“Honestly, I don’t have anything that good.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex lays down beside her, arms folded behind her head. “Surely there’s _something._ ”

Kara shakes her head, cranes her neck to face Alex.

“Really, nothing beats hot nerd boy.”

Alex hums, “I suppose it is a pretty hard story to top.”

“Although, I did hear rumours about the chemistry project this year that had the whole class grow facial hair.”

Alex faces her then, eyes wide. “Even the bald teacher you complained about?”

“Better,” Kara giggles. “He ended up with a mullet.”

Alex laughs so hard her body convulses, and even if Kara never found out the truth to that rumour, it's totally worth it to see Alex like this, innocent and young and painted by moonlight.

 

//

 

Kara drags Alex up with her when she flies, slowly at first to remember her bearings, but as soon as Alex sees the confidence back in her eyes, in her movements, she begs for them to go faster.

“Eliza would kill us.”

Alex holds tighter, grins as Kara starts to speed up anyway.

“Mom is gonna kill us no matter what, might as well make it worth it.”

Kara laughs, strong and hearty as she propels her and Alex through the air as fast as she’ll allow herself.

She checks on Alex every few minutes, but Alex tells Kara that lightheadedness is normal and to not be such a worry-wart, and Kara doesn’t know what that means, just that she wants to prove Alex wrong.

So they fly, until Kara’s muscles ache, until she can taste frost between her teeth from smiling so wide, until the adrenaline wears off and Alex yawns before pressing herself into Kara’s shoulder.

Kara takes them back to the motorcycle, and Alex stops for ice cream on the way home.

Kara spends the night the way she used to, in Alex’s childhood bed, the two of them wrapped up in the covers, wearing Jeremiah’s old shirts with flannel pants, Alex taking Kara’s glasses off as she begins to doze.

Kara whispers goodnight to Alex, and Alex says it back in Kryptonese, and Kara thinks she feels the sun in her chest before it's even risen.

 

* * *

 

Lena’s heels _click_ on the harsh tiles of the Daily Planet, her calves burning from the three flights of stairs. People bustle all around her, nudge her, some apologise but most don't - they recognise her and she levels them with a cool stare before they decide for themselves if she’s intimidating or terrifying.

She makes it to the fourth floor, makes out the hard stature of Clark Kent, trapped between his desk and two friends.

Lois Lane, she recognises immediately, long tousled hair and allure all enraptured by the bumbling persona in front of her. It's sweet, nostalgic in a way Lena shoves to the back of her mind.

The other man she’s seen before, with his camera and lovely grin, but she cannot remember his name. Opts for Joel, George, Jimmy. Something.

She strides towards Clark, stops before him and bows her head.

“Mr Kent,” she says, and he nods at her, eyes wide. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I may have a word?”

Lois bristles, stands a little taller, but Clark’s hand is on her wrist in seconds, and they share a look that both Lena and the friend can only try to decipher.

“It’s okay,” Clark says it gently, and she eases. “She’s Lena, not Lex.”

Lena turns from him then, walks away and Clark follows.

He catches up with her quickly, hand on her elbow and he guides her down the series of hallways throughout the Daily Planet, and Lena feels the tension of his hand ease, remind himself he’s human, and it's so very Kara that it hits her before she can even try to suppress it.

Clark takes her to a room in shambles, somewhere on the fifth floor, there are nail guns and power saws and Lena thinks maybe he intends to throw her out the window that’s yet to be replaced.

“It’s having renovations done,” his hand rubs at the back of his neck, taking a step back. “Superman went through it last week, and the crew is on lunch break right now.”

“Ah,” Lena nods, scans the room for people. Just in case.

“You wanted a word?”

“I did,” Lena nods, brings her handbag closer to her body. “I wanted to apologise.”

Clark breathes out, long and low. “Oh.”

“You see,” Lena folds her arms, guards herself and looks down. “I loved my brother, Clark, loved him more than anything this world had to offer, adored him with the power of the elements. But, he hurt you. And, if you didn’t stop him, he would have hurt more innocent refugees.”

She makes sure to say refugees instead of aliens, instead of Kara.

“I’m sorry, too.” Clark nods, sets his mouth to a thin line, uncrosses his arms to let them hang loose at his side. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

Lena feels her eyes well up, and Clark is there in a second. His arms are strong and secure around her, and there’s a part of him that smells like the sun and earth, like Kara, and she lets herself break.

She sobs into him, and he holds her the way her parents or brother never had, the way she needs to be, yearns to be. Like she is weak, like she’s _allowed_ to be weak - strong for too long and in need of a reverie.

She leans back, Clark’s hands on her shoulders now. She sniffs, laughs under her breath and he does too, because Lena can see the redness in his eyes, know he hurts too.

“I’m going to redefine what it means to be a Luthor,” she says, clenches her jaw to believe herself as much as Clark does. “Funnily enough, when Lex got his research grant, he left the company to me. Guess he forgot to change it.”

Clark’s smile is lopsided. “You mean you own Luthor Corp now?”

“L-Corp, yeah. I’m going to rebrand it, shape it into what it should have been. I’ve already burned and deleted all the plans of anti-alien weaponry that I could find,” she wipes at her eyes. “I owe aliens that much. I know there’s more to be done, but it’s a start.”

Clark curls a finger, taps it under her chin.

“You owe _yourself_ that much.” His hand drops from her shoulder, and he wipes some hair from his face. “I meant what I said, back there. You are not your brother, and, as you pointed out, I am not Kara.”

“No,” she stutters out a laugh. “You are definitely not.”

Clark softens, around the edges and in his face, and it's then that Lena can see more similarities between them than ever.

“Maybe you should try and see her,” he shrugs. “Maybe just talk to her. I know she’d love to hear from you, even if it’s only a text.”

Lena shakes her head, tries to put distance between her and Clark but it doesn’t work because there’s a pull, an otherworldly force that drags her within distance of Kryptonians until her mind wants to walk away but her body can’t.

“Not yet, not when things are the way they are.” She clears her throat, stands taller, more convincing. “When things are better, when Luthors are better. Then, maybe.”

Clark grins, all sunshine and bared teeth, and he pulls her in until they’re side by side, walking back to his desk.

“I’ll make sure to be the first to report on it, Little Luthor.”

Lena eases into his side, arm linked with his, and for the first time in years, the name doesn’t sting.

 

* * *

 

Kara slumps onto Alex’s couch, head thrown back as she groans.

“Please tell me you didn’t fly here,” is Alex’s greeting, rounding the corner of her kitchen island, cardboard containers in hand.

“And please tell me that those are the potstickers I asked you to order.”

Alex laughs under her breath, taps Kara’s calf with her knee so she’ll make room for her to sit. She hands Kara her container, two more on the island waiting, as she sits, props her knees up for a makeshift table.

“I take it the interview for CatCo didn’t go well, then?”

Kara grimaces around a bite, puffed cheek turning red and Alex suppresses the urge to giggle.

“Yes, well, no. Ugh, it's complicated?”

Alex mutes the TV, turns her head as she pokes her chopsticks into her noodles.

“Go on.”

“Well, like,” Kara’s voice is muffled, she swallows before she continues. “I bombed out on being Miss Grant’s assistant. But, she seemed to think I had a _“sense of justice inept for secretary work”_. So, I’m working for her, but not under her.”

“Wait, what?”

Kara smiles, dazzling with teeth covered in sticky sauce and this time Alex does laugh, followed by Kara, who bows.

“You’re now looking at probationary reporter, Kara Danvers.”

Alex jumps to her feet, still on the couch, noodles spilling to the crease of the pillows beneath them. “Holy shit!”

“Right?”

“Kara, this is so,” Alex catches herself, puts her container on the coffee table (making sure Kara does the same), before pouncing onto her sister's, arms around her neck. “This is so amazing, I’m so proud of you. Oh my god, have you told Mom? When’s your first assignment?”

Kara pats her on the back, reclines back to answer.

“No, I wanted to tell you first, but we can ring Eliza after dinner if you want.” She leans over, plucks a potsticker from her container before continuing. “And my first solo assignment won't be for months yet, but I want it to have something to do with aliens.”

Alex rolls her eyes, “Risky.”

“Gotta follow your passion,” she shrugs, and Alex hugs her again.

 

//

 

They ring Eliza, and she screams so loud that Alex worries the speaker feature on her phone is broken for three weeks afterwards.

 

* * *

 

Tooth and nail, Lena Luthor had fought to rise her family’s company from the ashes. And, for the most part, she had achieved it. Despite initial doubts, Lena was able to fire those who wore her brother’s ideals as armour, had kept on and hired kind souls with the strive to better alien protection.

She terminates all plans for weapons, destroys prototypes and the weapons themselves. She makes sure to let the company’s actions speak for itself and its new direction in this time, refuses interviews she knows she cannot handle yet.

Clark emails her six months into the rebranding, asks if it's okay if someone else does her first interview, because his boss has him swept up in a cold case for the time being. She agrees, so long as it's someone he trusts.

 

//

 

Lena works at her desk, coffee long forgotten and cold beside her laptop. The beginning of day peeks through the balcony’s windows, and Lena gets up from her chair to find the remote for the shutters.

The leather sticks to the backs of her knees as she stands, dismissing the nerves as no more than first interview jitters. Finding the remote, she presses the button, watches as the sunlight pours in, coats the room in a warm glow that light bulbs cannot match.

It is still early morning, the sky a canvas of reds and purples and oranges, and it calms Lena, centers her.

Just as she places the remote back in its holder, there’s a knock at her door, her secretary popping her head inside.

“Miss Luthor, your nine o’clock is here.”

“Thank you, Jess,” she nods, turns her head, “send them in.”

The pad of the reporter’s feet are soft, cautious. Lena can’t blame them, she’d be surprised if someone wasn’t weary of her upon first glance by now.

“Thank you for you time, Miss Luthor.”

Her voice is warm, like honey and sunrise, and Lena smiles for a moment to let it wash over her. This person does not hate her, there is nothing but curiosity and unanswered questions in her tone.

“It’s no trouble. And please, call me Lena,” she pivots, sees the woman’s hand to shake and takes it. “Miss…”

Her hand is strong, runs hot and pulsing and Lena looks up.

Eyes as blue as the sky, as deep as the ocean, stare right at her, through her, and Lena’s mind is a blank slate as she feels the walls around her close in.

“Danvers,” she smiles at Lena, wide and bright and _knowing_. And Lena wishes the ground would open up beneath her, prays for the earth to swallow her whole. “Kara Danvers.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noah fence but I literally love all you guys so much, it's your comments and anons and support that inspire me to write this <3


	4. i woke with her walls around me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where they're both such gay messes and i suffer from secondhand embarrassment.

Kara holds Lena’s hand, longer than she needs to, keeps it firm and locked between her fingers and tries not to pull, to disrupt the mutual silence of their recognition with something as stupid as a hug.

But Lena lets Kara hold her for that fraction extra, and Kara watches the green of her eyes and the way they take her in, regard her. She feels Lena’s gaze downright _devour_ her, envelop her, and it's then that she lets go, that Lena’s mouth tightens and she poises herself.

That they remember who they are now instead of before.

Memories make a person, mold them, but Kara will not kid herself to believe her year with Lena shaped the sharp woman moving to sit at her desk, pen picked up and twirling between fingers.

“Please, Miss Danvers, sit,” Lena’s free hand gestures to the seat behind Kara, and she all but falls into it, clearing her throat, bouncing her foot.

She steels herself, remembers the notebook she brought with her, whips it out with a flourish and grins at Lena. She’s not sure what exactly she was hoping for, but the twitch of Lena’s lips warms in the centre of her chest, and she thinks maybe that’s enough for now.

 

* * *

 

Lena focuses on the feel of the pen, slips it through her fingers and she makes sure to register the cool touch of metal each time, counts to three with pursed lips to make sure her answers seem thought out, that she seems composed.

Because in all her time, Lena had never been so undone.

Kara’s voice is firm, hard-hitting and direct, she asks questions without thinking, scribbles notes furiously. There’s a scar, the tiniest dint that skews the furrow of Kara’s brows - Kara can scar, here, only once from what Lena can see but once is enough, and it hits her that for Kara to gain injury, something deep and permanent and _lasting_ , it would have had to run red. It would have had to _hurt_.

She stutters, pen falling from her fingers, clattering on the desk and Kara looks up at the noise, cheeks rosy when her eyes meet Lena’s, bowing her head a moment later to adjust her glasses.

Kara looks back down to her notes, bottom lip caught between her teeth as Lena watches her try to word it more delicately, kinder.

“There are rumours about your press conference, the one taking place next week.”

Lena bristles, sits taller. “What do they say?”

“That it’s a PR move,” Kara is quick to recover, breathes harshly before her hand comes up so swiftly her pen flies from her hand, leaves a dent in the cabinet beside Lena’s desk. They both pretend not to notice. “Which, personally, is hard to believe. From initial statements, you seemed to be wanting to take LuthorCorp in the opposite direction. I mean, rebranding? Scrapping all previous blueprints for equipment and projects? It’s bold.”

“Well, thank you.” Lena exhales, sinks back into her chair. “The company needed a bold move, not only for the press, but - for myself. If I were to truly expand the company’s horizons, while leaving past actions behind us, sacrifices had to be made. This press conference is to ensure that the alien population know that L-Corp brings no harm, that their faith will not be betrayed.”

Kara nods, moves to write it down before remembering where her pen lies, smile turning into a grimace. Lena can't help but laugh, soft and low, and she watches Kara remember it, sees it wash over her.

She spins her chair, stands, flushes when she remembers she’d taken her heels off, bare feet padding on the carpet rug. Leaning against the front of her desk, hands resting either side of her hips, feeling the hair at the base of her neck rise when Kara _stares_ at her.

She smiles, cocky and crooked, and hands Kara her own pen, lets it hang in the air between them before Kara takes it.

Kara jots it down, in pointed letters that Lena thinks look more like something Kara’s used to, English words slanted with hard pressed dots and crosses.

“Good - good quote,” Kara mumbles, and Lena isn’t sure if it's for her or Kara, so she nods anyway, hums and smiles, leans more solidly against her desk and when Kara raises her head again her bottom lip drops.

Lena relishes in it, smiles a little more slyly, runs a hand through her hair before arching a brow at Kara.

“Any more questions, Miss Danvers?”

Kara’s eyes glaze for a second, blinking as her fingers twitch around the pen, her leg jostling the notebook as it bounces.

“One,” Kara says, voice pitched. She clears her throat, tries again. “Just one, for now. My boss, he said not to ask you, because he thinks no one will care, but - I, I think people will.”

Lena softens, hands coming together in front of her, resting on her skirt.

“Go on,”

“Why take the company over?” Kara stops tapping the pen, lips scrunching. “To change direction, it's a _big task_ , like, there would have been so much to do in the beginning, even now there still must be a lot to work on. And you’re smart, so I assume you would have known how much revenue this could have cost the company, how many anti-alien investors you would lose.”

Lena breathes, forces herself to stop once Kara’s perfume hits her, shakes her head to clear herself of it before she starts.

“It’s true, the overhaul has lost investors, we have lost quite a bit of standing in stocks and the funding we are given for research - I knew this was to be expected, especially the firing of many influential employees. But, as I said before,”

“Sacrifices had to be made.” Kara finishes for her, smiles when Lena nods.

“For the greater good, of both this company, and the alien population.” She looks at Kara, drinks her in from head to toe, sees the sun from the window shine on her like a halo, the shadow of Lena cast beside her. “You can’t live in fear, no one should _have to_ . I took over this company to _change_ it, to twist the fear my family had brought into this world.”

“To prove that Luthor is nothing to be feared?”

“My family deserve all that is fated to them.” Lena shakes her head, “Their actions brought terror, and incited violence. I can’t change what they’ve done. But, I can show what _I_ can do, what my family’s science _could have_ achieved.”

Kara looks at her, fond and warm and it pools in Lena’s chest, settles in the tips of her fingers like running ore. Kara, with the faith of an old friend, with the renewed hope of an alien, looks at Lena like she has spun gold.

For the first time since rebranding, Lena thinks maybe she has the chance to.

 

* * *

 

[14:09 to: Alex] _I need donuts_

[14:09 to: Alex] _And potstickers_

[14:09 to: Alex] _And ice cream_

[14:10 from: Alex] _How long until you’re home?_

[14:10 to: Alex] _About forty seconds if I fly_

[14:11 from: Alex] _Kara_

[14:12 to: Alex] _Okay so that’s a no to the flying?_

[14:12 to: Alex] _I promise I’m still pretty good at it_

[14:13 from: Alex] _I bet you are_

[14:13 from: Alex] _But no flying, you know what Mom says_

[14:14 to: Alex] “ _Only if someone we love needs us”_

[14:15 from: Alex] _Exactly_

[14:15 from: Alex] _Now do you want the food in that order or are we emotionally eating until I have a stomachache and you ask for seconds?_

[14:16 to: Alex] _Silly question_

[14:16 to: Alex] _Really though, higher your expectations of us_

[14:16 to: Alex] _I’ll be on my thirds by then and we both know it x_

 

//

 

Kara leaves her door unlocked, can hear Alex’s bike as she settles behind the kitchen island, pulls the chair opposite her out for Alex before she sits down.

Alex elbows her way in, arms weighed down by plastic bags and she stumbles over her feet, boots squeaking against the hardwood.

“Don’t help,” she says, rolls her eyes when Kara shrugs. “Not like you could lift all this one finger.”

Kara takes the bags from Alex just as she reaches the island, with only her index finger. She scrunches her nose at Alex, “Honestly, could do it with less than this.”

Alex blows out a laugh in a huff, walks towards the drawers to find cutlery.

“Showoff.”

Kara turns, holding the box of donuts. “I resent that.”

“You resent nothing.” Alex smiles, hip checks the drawer with spoons in her hand. She sits at the island, hands Kara one of the spoons. “You are literal sunshine, Kara Zor-El, you couldn’t hate anything or anyone even if you wanted to.”

Kara clicks her tongue, opens the box and picks a sugar dusted donut, takes out half of it in one bite because she’s not about to let Alex win by trying to prove her wrong.

“Thanks for these,” she says, mouth still full. “I needed it.”

Alex looks at her entirely too softly, “And why is that?”

Kara swallows, the chunk of donut going down whole, a lump in her throat that’s turned sour and Kara feels like she _should_ be happy, that being able to see Lena again would be something like stars exploding and planets forming.

And yet, somehow, it's a gnawing sort of want. Now that she knows Lena is here, is _real_ and within reach - it's too much, but not enough. It sticks to her, the kind of desperate need to see her and just be around her, so that Lena knows she’s real, too.

Alex pinches her shoulder, and she humours her by flinching.

“Snapper sent me out on a job today,” she starts, takes her glasses off to rub at her nose. “Both Clark and Cat recommended it to him, and the rest of the team was all doing their own thing with their stories and.”

“And?” Alex dusts her fingers off, crooks a brow at Kara. “Don’t tell me you blew your cover.”

“No. No, I,” and she wells up without even thinking about it, without even knowing _why._ “It was about the press conference, you know the one?”

Alex nods, leans further down the table and softens her voice. “Yeah we’re patrolling it, no aliens are going to be hurt, Kara.”

“Thank you, but that’s not,” she breathes, feels it sting hard and sharp in her throat. “Do you know who’s holding it?”

“The press conference?” Alex asks, Kara nods. “The new owner of L-Corp, but, Kara, I don’t - _oh._ ”

Kara sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, stops it from wobbling but Alex rounds the island before she can even blink and has her arms wrapped around Kara’s shoulders, runs a hand over her spine over and over until Kara can zero in on it, focus on that instead of the pain behind her eyes.

“It’s _her_ , Alex,” she says, clenches her jaw and holds onto the stool instead of Alex, just in case. “It’s her and I _swear_ she knew it was me, but she didn’t - it was the same but it was so _different_.”

Alex gives her another squeeze, leans back to leverage herself with Kara.

“You’ve both grown up,” she tells Kara, moves the hair from her face. “You’ve both been through a lot since you’ve seen each other. Maybe she’s just trying to figure it all out, her family did kind of leave her high and dry, so.”

Kara nods, places her hands on top of Alex’s wrists, squeezes as gently as she can.

“She’s still so _brave_.”

Alex nudges her, makes sure Kara is paying full attention when she smiles, hopeful and adoring and _Alex_ , “So are you.”

 

* * *

 

The leather of her new couch settles against the back of her knees, plush and full but sticky, like her skin would peel away at the slightest movement. Perhaps she doesn’t feel at home in her skin, not tonight, not when Kara had crawled her way back underneath it with just _one look_.

Lena promised herself she wouldn’t let it get to her, that the love of her life hadn't stumbled into her office, that she hadn't felt like she was a teenager again - that neither of them were bumbling their way back into adulthood, reminding themselves that they’ve changed.

The whiskey in her hand has grown warm, ice melted, watered down alcohol swirling as she rotates her wrist back and forth.

Tomorrow, she is to stand before a podium, in front of all those her brother had wronged. She wants so badly to move on, to move forward, for the aliens to _trust_ her because - well, is she really a Luthor anyway?

Would her father be proud,  or would he wish for her to throw it all under the rug and move to a remote island with her inheritance, rather than to face the possibility of violent protest?

The sound of traffic filters through her balcony door, askew to let fresh air in. It does nothing but flush her cheek and make her nose turn rosy. She thinks maybe, if she focuses hard enough, Kara’s perfume lingers in her office, swathed by the breeze.

It's foolish, really, to be more nervous about Kara reporting the press conference than the actual people who wish for her family’s demise, than her supporters, than the reporters and journalists that will ask far harder questions than Kara would.

But, foolishness in the face of Kara was never new, an old habit, an automatic reaction that sweeps from her toes to the tip of her tongue, settles in her stomach and sends frost down her back.

Tomorrow, she is to stand before a podium.

Tonight, she is to dream of the girl with eyes like the stars and hair like the sun.

 

* * *

 

Her knees are still weak, hands still wrought tight around the edges of the podium, heart in her throat because - because _she did it_ , she gave her speech, she answered their questions. She stood _boldly_ before them, stood _unapologetically,_ with her chin held the way her father taught her, back straight and refined the way Lillian had.

A hand reaches for the sky in front of her, fingers pointed and bicep rippling with the muscle underneath and Lena has to swallow before she speaks.

“One last question, Miss Danvers?”

Kara, only metres in front of her, nods, ponytail bouncing and glasses edging down her nose. Lena tries not to smile.

“Last one, Miss Luthor, I’m sure you have plenty more business to attend to.”

 _Tries_ being the operative word.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she watches Kara’s jaw ease at her words, hopes she catches the lines for her to read between. “Go ahead.”

Kara’s shoulders widen as she stands taller, clears her throat, and Lena can't help but melt at Kara playing reporter, at playing nerdy human, at Kara still being _Kara_.

“Is there a closing statement you’d like to make, one that would be able to sum up all that you have mentioned here today, and your goals towards the future?”

She loosens her fingers on the podium, nods at Kara, closes her eyes as she feels the flashes of harsh magazine cameras wash over her. Looking back up, three news stations are focused on her, and she knows damn well that she’s live on at least two of them.

She sets her jaw, blinks twice, leans towards the microphone to make sure she is never misinterpreted again.

“I will not bear the sins of my family,” she starts, licks her lips and poises herself the way Lex used to, the same as he did when he finally beat her at chess, when he finally baked something that didn’t burn. “They are wounds on this company. Moving forward, L-Corp is to be a company of change, of _acceptance_ , of-”

She doesn’t get to finish, a sharp sting in her ears settles before the tremor of an explosion. She's thrown backwards, and she hears the click of her wrist before she feels it, hears everyone else’s screams before her own.

There are people running, in every direction, in every possible way to _get out_ . She sees swarms of officers ushering people to safety, dressed in all black and - _oh_.

_Lex._

It grates in her mind, grinds on her teeth until she tastes copper. He _still_ has supporters - of course he does, of course of course of course.

The pain in her wrist doubles as she stands, rests against the podium before rushing towards the attendees, tries to move them the same way the officers are.

Something tugs at her scalp, tugs _hard_ and she screams, yanked to the floor and she doesn't even get to blink before there’s a man, muscled and burly and _armed_ staring holes into her.

He raises his gun at her, levelled and unafraid, and he has the nerve to _fucking smile_ at her.

“Lex sends his regards,”

She scrunches her eyes shut, wishes she hadn't predicted her death going like this, like some cliche TV show, like she’s been made an enemy of the public _and_ her own family.

She hears the trigger, the _bang_ of his rifle - but feels no bullet.

Something wraps around her, something like steel, something like _home_.

 

//

 

Kara touches down onto carpet she knows she shouldn’t be wearing shoes on, let alone in boots heavy with her weight. Her arms are shaking, _she’s_ shaking, every possibility of Lena being hurt or - or _worse_ still running through her mind.

But Lena, Lena is here, she’s _here_ she’s _in Kara’s arms_ and she’s safe. She’s safe she’s safe she’s safe.

She opens the balcony door with the edge of her foot, wide enough to let them both in, with the speed of a blur, just in case journalists managed to track them.

Setting Lena down, just in front of her desk, she stammers backwards, feet awkward, like she’s learning the gravity of Earth all over again.

“Is it okay if I lower the blinds?” She asks, low and soft.

Lena nods, barely, shifts her head towards a remote by her laptop. Kara pads over, assured and slow with a heart faster than a hummingbird, presses the button that resembles curtains the most, feels the sun lose some of its energy in her skin as the room darkens.

She steps out of Lena’s space after placing the remote back down, gives her a good three feet between them. Just in case. Boundaries and respect are what Lena deserves, what Lena _needs_ after all this time.

Lena looks up at her then, eyes welled and wet like springtime, and Kara feels the pillars of her chest collapse.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked but,” she breathes, raspy and shaky and she _knows_ Lena heard because Lena is staring right at her lips, jolting back to her eyes and she watches Lena soften at that. “But you were in danger and-”

“They shot you.” Lena says, firm, points at the hole in Kara’s sweater, at the untouched patch of skin that lie beneath. “They - you’re hurt.”

Kara shakes her head, “I’m okay. Bullets don’t really work, remember?”

Kara is floored when Lena hugs her, fast and bruising and Kara’s entire universe skews on its axis because Lena smells different, smells bolder and more floral but she smells like _Lena_ \- like ink and the metal of rings and fresh laundry and, and-

She wraps her arms around Lena’s waist, hoists her off the ground, makes sure to hug the way Alex had taught her, with enough love to bloom flowers but not harm human skin.

She’s not ready to let Lena go, not just yet, but lowers her when there’s a kiss pressed to her cheek, when Lena’s back arches to inch away from her. The three feet between them has turned to less than one, Lena’s eyes bright with something Kara’s yearned to see for years.

“Was that a thank you?” Kara asks, a drop of laughter at the end of her sentence.

Lena’s smile turns toothy, and Kara has to press her glasses further up her nose to focus on something that isn't their heartbeats.

“That was I’ve missed you.”

Kara feels herself soften, shoulders slumping as her grin turns lopsided. She holds her arms out, waggles her eyebrows and Lena laughs before falling into them, loud and brash and Kara thinks maybe Lena hasn’t laughed like that for as long as Kara hasn’t heard it.

Lena’s warmth is more present now, Kara making sure to register each and every thing. She buries her face in the crook of Lena’s shoulder, body curving around her and she listens to Lena’s pulse quicken, squeezes a little tighter.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

 

//

 

The sun pooling in her chest is what wakes Kara up, contented heat spreading over her as she leans up. Her skin sticks a little to whatever she’s lying on, a blanket she’s never seen before shucking to her waist as she sits up.

She’s still in yesterday’s clothes, arms bare without her sweater. She blinks, breathes, takes in her surroundings.

Lena’s office - well, heck.

She stands, blanket falling to the floor. She picks it up, haphazardly folds the black fabric and pushes it to the corner of the couch. The carpet is soft on her bare feet, her eyes darting around before settling on her boots, beside Lena’s desk, her socks balled up, sticking out of her left boot.

Scrambling toward them, she leaps to the floor, squeezes her feet into her socks before jamming herself into the boots.

She’s so dead, Rao she is _so dead_ . Lena probably thinks she’s an idiot, a lovesick idiot who fell asleep in her old crush’s _freaking office_ because she didn't want to go home - because catching up and laughing and Lena offering her whiskey before remembering Kara is a damn _Kryptonian_ somehow trumped binge-watching Netflix with three day old Chinese leftovers.

Of course it did, of _course_ it did. How could it not?

Kara hits her head on Lena’s desk as she rises, nearly falling back onto the ground with the force of it. There’s the slightest crack in the corner - yep, definitely dead.

She hears something rustle, looks beyond the crack to see a brown paper bag, the _Noonan’s_ logo printed on the front. There’s the slightest hint of grease slicking the bottom of the bag - its fresh.

Which means Lena had only just left, which means she’d seen Kara asleep. Most likely sleeptalking, most likely floating from the air Lena leaves in her chest.

Kara tries not to think of Lena watching her, of her soft and small smile and the way she would have tucked the blanket over Kara with a reverence she hasn’t experienced in years.

There’s a note, next to the bag, complete with Lena’s handwriting and a sugary fingerprint. It sits on top of her sweater, the hole in the chest sewn over with almost the same pastel it's made from.

_‘This is the beginning of thank you,_

_Xx’_

Kara feels her heart swell in her chest, a lump in her throat that quickly moves to her stomach as she opens the bag. Donuts, eleven of them, each a different flavour.

Kara remembers the creaky bed of the old home, the mildew in the corner of the wall - how Lena had asked, young and blindingly intrigued, what her favourite flavour was. She remembers how she’d told Lena she could never decide, that they were all wonderful; how Lena had laughed before scooting over to sit beside her, to hold her hand and tell her she’d get one of every flavour if she had to.

It pricks at her eyes, small and steady but it's there - Lena remembers as much as she does, Lena remembers _everything_.

The force of it hits Kara so hard, so _fast_ , that she has to pile everything in her arms, has to kick off from the balcony into the sky, has to _leave_ before she decided she never wanted to.

 

* * *

 

Alex is waiting for Kara at her apartment, jaw clenched, spare keys dangling over her fingers as she stops spinning them.

Kara sighs, toes her boots off as she throws her sweater over the back of her couch. She meets Alex at the dining table, sits across from her and bows her head.

“Before you start, I know what you’re thinking.”

“That’s nice, because I’d like to know damn well what _you_ were thinking when you _revealed yourself_ to _three_ \- not one, not two, but _three_ live broadcasts.”

Kara grumbles, balls her hands into fists.

“I _wasn't_ thinking, okay? You know I wasnt.” She breathes, lets the exhale come long and slow to steady herself. “It was _Lena’s_ press conference. It wasn't some hotshot who doesn't deserve exposure, it was-”

“So you think your entire secret is worth being exposed for a childhood crush,” Alex crinkles her brow then, knows she’s gone too far, regrets it and opens her mouth to continue but Kara doesn’t let her, _can't_ let her.

“If it wasn't her, it was going to be you. Or Eliza. Or Winn or James or - or _anyone_ that I care about. This secret, it's _who I am_ , Alex. I can’t change it, but I can change what happens to the people I love, I can stop people from hurting others, I can _save_ people, Alex.”

Alex gnaws at her bottom lip, shakes her head.

“You sound like Clark,” she laughs, a little bitter, a little sombre. “This - it's too dangerous, Kara.”

Kara stands then, chair thrown back behind her. Her hands hit the table, a perfect dent of her fists but Alex doesn't flinch, doesn't hesitate or back down.

“It's more dangerous for Lena. For you.” She paces, stops just short of the couch. “You’re not bulletproof, you can’t fly and, sure, guns are great and money and bodyguards are great but you and everyone else, you're all _human_.”

“That doesn't mean you need to play hero, Kara!” Alex rushes to her, gives her space but stands firm and sure. “Clark nearly died being Superman, you want to risk it all by being what, Superwoman?”

Kara sighs, takes her glasses off to rub between her eyes.

“Yesterday, helping Lena - _saving_ her - it, it was nice. It felt good, felt like _I_ was good. Not like I was some alien with an ancient secret. It felt _right_ , its what my parents _sent me here_ for. To help. To carry on Krypton, to make sure it doesn’t die with Kal and I.”

Alex nods then, sharp and blurred a little in Kara’s eyes. She wrings her hands together, and Kara pretends not to notice them shaking.

“Okay,” she says, nods again. “Okay. I know I can’t stop you, and I know - I know this is the right thing, that it's what your parents and, and Dad would have wanted. But don't think Mom will be okay with this, because she’s going to give you hell to pay when you tell her.”

Kara laughs, relief flooding over her. She presses into Alex, hugs her sister, thanks her for understanding in a way words can't.

She sniffles, pretending to feel it when Alex punches her arm, pulls her onto the couch when she calls her a nerd.

She fiddles with the remote, hands it to Alex to find something to watch.

“Pizza’s on me, tonight.”

Alex’s grin is sly, and Kara doesn't get the chance to question it before there’s a pillow slamming hard into her face.

“It’d wanna be, I can’t afford your metabolism.”

Kara feigns hurt, clenches at her heart. “You think my reporter wage can?”

Alex waggles an eyebrow, thumb dancing over the remote.

“Maybe your rich and powerful girlfriend can help you out.”

Kara hurls the pillow back at Alex so hard she winces when it makes contact.

 

* * *

 

Things move a little quicker than Kara’s mind can wrap around, James and Winn recognising her blurry pastels even at the speed of light, James offering to teach her how to fight, Winn designing a suit and dubbing her _Superbabe_ within seconds.

He drops the name after Kara finds it offensive. He’s good like that.

Kara flashes her prototype suit at three bank robberies before Cat Grant, Queen of All Media, names the blonde in red and blue _Supergirl_ . Kara wants to be mad, wants to think it's a bit childish, but once Cat tells her - tells _Kara_ \- how empowering it can be, and that Kara would get to write the expose article herself - well, how could she resist?

Lena emails her after the article is leaked, tells her that her prose is ‘ _gorgeous’_ , and that she has inside access to any future interviews required of L-Corp. Kara thanks her, tells her she’s very grateful, and if she drops a byline of how interested she’d be in access to Lena herself, she doesn’t make a big deal about it.

 

//

 

Alex does.

Alex makes a very big deal. Because Lena has offered her genius, has offered to assist with the final completion of her suit, alongside a,

_‘PS - you're welcome to fly by my office any time xx’_

And Kara wants to tell Alex she’s reading too much into it, but Alex keeps pointing out the kisses at the end of the sentence, the way Lena’s phone number is hastily added at the end - _“not an afterthought,”_ Alex had told her, _“clearly she’d wanted to add it the whole time, but there was no smooth way to do it so her Gay Panic took over”_.

Kara nearly laughs, before her own panic takes over because _Lena_ wants to finish her suit, wants to see Supergirl in her armour, wants to change Winn’s skirt to tights and to make her cape a little shorter so she doesn’t trip up on it. She wants to make suits for every necessity, wants to make it more accessible under Kara’s clothes, automated to fit to her body seamlessly under her button ups and jeans.

Kara can't help but wonder the amount of thought Lena’s put into it all, if she’d thought of the things that go along with suit-making. The measuring, the getting up close, the fact that they’d be in a shared and small space, soundproofed, for long periods of time.

Kara almost asks Alex to chauffer, because she’s not entirely sure she could handle such proximity with Lena for more than ten minutes, not without caving - without being thirteen and rose coloured and so, _so_ in love with Lena all over again.

Alex tells her she’ll be fine, walks her to the desk in front of Lena’s office, speaks for her when her mouth fails her.

Alex pats her on the back when Lena’s assistant announces she’s ready for her, gives her a thumbs up and tells her to text her when she’s ready to come home.

She breathes, focuses all her energy into pushing Lena’s door open, thinks of texting Alex as soon as vanilla candles and _Lena_ hit her senses all at once.

Rao, she is so dead.

 

* * *

 

Kara hovers in the doorway, swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet and Lena can’t help but smile at her, gestures vaguely with her free hand.

“Please, Kara, take a seat wherever you’d like.”

Kara opts for the couch, of course she does, and Lena stands from her desk - it would be _rude_ not to join Kara, her mother’s harsh teachings echoing in her ears, _“Be courteous to your guests”_.

Kara shuffles back as Lena eases down onto the couch, and Lena can see the way Kara’s throat bobs, the way that one tendon tightens, her hands coming together, fingers tangling. Lena doesn’t point it out.

“I need your numbers,” she says, watches Kara’s brows knit together and a flush rise to her cheeks before she realises what she’s done. “Your, um. You’re stats, those numbers.”

“Oh,” Kara starts to breathe again, Lena wishes she hadn’t forgotten herself.

Lena looks down at her hands while Kara fishes something from her back pocket, flicks one nail against the other until there’s a piece of paper (a napkin?) thrust into her view.

She looks back up at Kara, at her soft eyes and small smile and, _god_ , she was never _really_ going to get over her, was she?

“My friend, Winn, was so excited you wanted these,” Kara starts, and Lena tries not to stare when Kara licks her lips. “He’s nerdy, also possibly in love with my cousin.”

Lena takes the paper from Kara, looks over the calculations for a second before realising her hand, _Kara’s_ hand, is touching hers.

Kara must know, too, because she’s looking straight at Lena, straight _through_ Lena. Soft eyes now determined, firm and deep and - _oh_ , Kara’s run a finger over her thumb.

Lena stammers, opens her mouth twice before getting a mere sentence out.

“I’ll have to print him a copy of this, then.” She says, barely makes it to her desk without falling over, head light and vision swaying.

Lena turns her laptop around, a bad (great?) move once Kara sidles up behind her, practically breathes down her fucking neck and - does she even know she’s doing this to Lena? Surely, she must because Kara’s pretending she can’t even see the screen, that her powers _must_ be failing her because she’s leaning _closer_.

“Are those Kal’s numbers?”

Lena nods, brings her lips together and breathes before she speaks.

“I found an encrypted file while purging all the old LuthorCorp data, seems my brother kept numbers on Superman himself.”

“That would explain his obsession with our powers, then.” Kara mumbles it, _so close_ to Lena’s neck that she can practically _feel_ it, goosebumps rising, skin flushing. When Kara sidesteps to face her, Lena both wants to thank every god ever, and damn them. “Wait, is this why you wanted to help with my suit?”

Lena nods, doesn’t look up from the screen, _can't_. She’s not ready, not to face Kara, not yet.

“Based off your and your cousin’s numbers, I can find an average base point for the threshold your suit can take. Which, um, my hypothesis was correct - for once.” She rubs at the back of her neck, free hand reaching for the small remote next to her laptop.

Kara holds it like a foreign object, “This is tiny.”

Lena shrugs, “It only needed one button.”

Kara’s nose scrunches, fingers pressing down on the button and Lena waits for a gasp or a squeal or _something_ to get an indication of Kara’s feelings.

She laughs. Kara laughs, loud and strong and before Lena knows left from right she’s pulled tight against Kara’s side.

“Couldn’t just have it hanging on a mannequin, could you?”

Lena quirks her lips, sinks a little into Kara’s side as she walks. The suit is there, revealed in its glory, bright red and blue now darker, tights and armour instead of a skirt and a belt. More like her aunt and uncle’s old war uniform. But the crest is still there, the one thing that mattered to Kara, she kept.

“What can I say? I still have a flair for the dramatics.”

Kara grins wide at her, then, eyes squinted in that playful way Lena’s missed and missed and _missed_.

“All you Luthors do.”

Lena melts, knows Kara means well, means the Luthor _she_ knew - tiny, teenage Lena, Lena with glasses and wavy hair, Lena without makeup but with _so_ much promise to the world.

With so much promise to _her_.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Kara notices about her new suit is that, well, it's a lot tighter than Winn’s design. Tights and leather and spandex, unsurprisingly, do not allow as much breathing room as the modified, bullet-proof cotton of her skirt. She likes this suit more, though, it’s much more practical, much more heroic, much less likely to make her enemies mock her or underestimate her.

Lena assures her it’ll loosen up when she wears it frequently, _“like a good pair of new jeans”_ , she’d said.

Besides, if Lena keeps looking at her like _that_ \- well, who is Kara to complain about that one itch in her back the suit creates?

Kara snaps back to reality when she sees Lena’s lips moving. Words, those are words. Okay.

“-four controls, I’ve put them in easily accessible places, so no one who doesn’t know, will never know.”

Kara nods, doesn't speak, not when Lena is stepping forward, putting less distance between them. Not when her perfume floods Kara’s nose, when her eyes are so green and _so_ close that Kara finds it hard to breathe, let alone think.

“The first control is here,” Lena says, points to the middle of her chest, the apex of her family crest. “This is the one that melds your suit to your body. Don’t freak out, it won’t itch or go tighter than usual. It stretches to do it, actually.”

“And that’s for?” Kara pretends her voice didn’t break at the end of her sentence, that the fact Lena’s pushing the button, two fingers close to her heartbeat - it’s distracting, to say the least.

“So your cape doesn’t stick out of your reporter pants and you get figured out.”

Kara huffs, somewhere between incredulity and a laugh.

Lena manages to get even closer, hands on Kara’s hips and Kara’s mind practically _swims_ . Lena surrounds her entirely, her perfume her lotion her shampoo, her eyes her fingers her pulse her heartbeat, she’s _everywhere_.

Kara has to remind herself to _not_ start floating.

“These act as costume changes,” she taps her fingers on Kara’s left hip, and Kara ignores the way her heartrate jumps to match Lena’s. “The left is to contract your cape, and to project a hood, should you need it for stealth.”

Kara inhales, shaky and lost. “And the right?”

Lena pushes the button, and Kara jumps at the noise her suit makes - _clang_ after _clang_ until she’s wide eyed and staring at Lena through a visor.

“More armour.” Lena explains simply, her face falling when she finishes. “Sorry, I forgot how loud it could be - I’ll tweak that before you debut, I promise.”

Kara shakes her head, presses her hand over Lena’s, retracts the armour until she's Kara again - Kara with her suit, with her crest, almost entirely _her_ , entirely _Kryptonian_.

“The last one,” Lena runs her fingers down the length of Kara’s forearm, slow and reverent and Kara nearly _shakes_ , “is a call signal. So far I’ve only programmed three numbers into it, but if you want me to add your friends, I’m more than happy to.”

“What are the three numbers?”

Lena turns over Kara’s hand, something like a mouse’s wheel just underneath the wrist of her suit. She scrolls, the names hovering, fluorescent holographs above her arm.

“Your sister, of course,” Lena starts, scrolls down, “The Department of Extranormal Operations, which I’m sure your sister is _dying_ to tell you all about.” Kara doesn't dwell on what Lena means by _that_ , because the third name is there, and Kara’s eyes could be playing tricks but she _swears_ that name shines brighter than all the others.

“You.”

Lena nods, makes a move to step away from her, but Kara’s hand is holding hers, threading their fingers together and Kara wants to know _why_ she’s doing that, knows she didn’t tell her body to do that and Lena is staring at their hands and - yikes, she should let go.

She doesn't.

“Yeah,” Lena says, clears her throat. “Me. You know, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you,” Lena’s hand is shaking, Kara doesn’t tell her. “In case you need adjustments to your suit, or, um.”

Kara tilts her head, hunches her shoulders to see Lena’s eyes.

“In case I need you?”

Lena sighs, nods, scrunches her eyes shut, brows together.

“In case you need me.”

Kara feels a smile creeping up, breaking her cheeks and tightening her chest.

“And if that means, I don't know, say an ice cream emergency. Or, because I miss you?”

“If you need me,” Lena doesn’t hesitate, still doesn’t look at Kara. “I’m there, Kara.”

Kara tugs, just a little, just enough to make Lena’s hand meet hers fully, enough to feel the blood race through Lena’s body.

“What if I miss you right now?”

Lena _stares_ at her then, eyes big and bold and the way Kara remembers them being the night they first flew.

“But I’m here,” Lena says, reaches her free hand to Kara’s chest. Maybe to push away, maybe the way her fingers drag down the crest say different.

Kara feels the weight of Lena’s words break down all her resolve, the cinder blocks between her ribs now rubble, dust, everything leaves and takes her precaution with it.

“Lena, I,” she leans in, her mind swirling, body out of her control.

Her eyes dart to Lena’s lips, glossy and pink, teeth she remembers _clacking_ against hers in chaste and dreamy teenage kisses, the bottom lip she’d capture between her own, the way Lena would pout until Kara kissed her or scratched the base of her neck when she was stressed.

Her whole body freezes, suit tightening so fast that she actually _falls_. She hears the contact of body on a wall, but only feels it in her hands and forearms.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she hears Lena’s voice, shakes her head to clear it. “I must have pushed the button by accident when you got closer - I can’t believe I-”

Kara laughs, low and fragile. “It’s okay, I’m just glad I didn’t crush you.”

Lena pouts, eyes shooting up to Kara’s arms - either side of her, above her shoulders and, _oh boy_.

“I’m going to need to call a repairman, aren’t I?”

Kara lowers her hands, feels plaster fall free from underneath. She winces, nods.

“Sorry,” she says, but Lena isn’t pouting anymore, isn’t even looking at anything in particular. Her eyes are fully enclosed on Kara, and - and maybe Kara’s mouth?

Lena’s breath hitches, Kara hears it, has the sound memorised, replays it in her head to replace the old one.

“I,” Kara’s words catch in her throat. Can she even say it, after all this time? Lena owes her nothing. Kara owes her honesty. “I want to kiss you.”

Lena’s tongue darts over her lips, Kara feels her knees begin to buckle.

“I wouldn’t stop you.”

Kara clenches at the wall, feels it crumble in her fingers. Feels her power, knows she’s trapping a human between her arms right now, knows that Lena is _Lena_ and that Kara can't hurt her, _won't_ hurt her - it’s why she left in the first place.

She steps backwards, grinds the plaster to dust in her fingers - knows that could be Lena, could be Alex, could be anyone who isn’t part of a legacy like hers.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, and it _stings_. Stings the same way it all has before, as she sits in a musty bedroom, stands on the porch of a home that wasn't ever really hers, as she gets into a car she’d never seen. “I can’t. Not like this, not yet.”

Lena nods, stands taller. More composed, refined.

Less _Lena_.

“I understand.”

“No, Lena, I,” she slows herself, rests her hands on Lena’s shoulders. “I want to. Rao knows I’ve wanted to since I left. But, things are a mess, there’s so much going on and I want it to be when I’m not Supergirl _or_ Kara Danvers.”

Lena opens her eyes then, soft and knowing.

“When you’re Kara Zor-El.”

Kara nods, eyes warm and wet as she pulls Lena in for a hug.

Lena runs her hands down Kara’s back, crooks her head into the space between Kara’s shoulders.

Kara lets out a shuddering breath, kisses Lena’s cheek, feels the weight of a world release - just for a moment, floats in effervescent bliss while in Lena’s arms, while Lena holds her like _Kara’s_ the one who could shatter.

“When I’m Kara Zor-El.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for sticking with this story, i'll admit i had lost inspiration for it due to personal issues and a lack of time. but, you guys kept me going, your comments and encouragement are what sparked my love for this story back to life, and i couldnt ever be grateful enough to you all <3  
> (also apologies this chapter is shorter than all the rest, but it didn't feel right to end it anywhere other than here)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading this, all of you are adored wholeheartedly  
> you can catch me screaming about this @blxx-m.tumblr.com


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